CHAPTER SIX[56]They popped quickly together into Bond Street. A tall man like a sarjent stood graveley at the door of the shop Mr. Withersq led his love to, and this tall man pretended to be undoing the door of a motor car when he saw them stopping at the door, and offered Selia his arm as if she was stepping out of her car and then led her up to the door as though she were someone although she had simply come on foot.Once inside a lordly person in evening dress came swimming up with joined hands and said “What, please?” with a low bow.Mr. Withersq said very loud: “Underthings” so this gentleman led them through beautiful saloons of costly goods until they got to that part.[57]A damzel with reddish hair gowned in trailing black satin and beads rose from a couch with a nice smile saying “What, please?” as Mr. Withersq told her. She then ran lightly up a few ladders and threw boxes down until he had chosen the kind of under things he craved from amongst these. There were garments of satin and silk and fleece all very refined and nice but Mr. Withersq chose his to be of peech pink as he thought that was rather fashenable and odd.He then gave orders for his name and £sd in a little ring to be embroidered on all these and paying her some good few pounds proceeded to another apartment.“Come Selia,” he cried, “we must quickly make ourselves chick.”And so with a harty slap on the back he led her on towards the boot part of the shop.“Show me some shoes and boots of the best” cried he smiling fondly to the lady at the[58]boots, “this is me and my young lady Selia, we are to go in socierty and must dress the part as you doubtless no.”So he bought a yellow pair with butons and a couple of black pairs of shoes and some white hairy ones and some red house shoes, and Selia had some shiny black shoes with dimond buckles and some pale boots and some openwork boots up the sides and some high shiny boots and some fur boots for the bedroom and satin slippers of every hugh besides stockings to match and silk all the way up at that every time and very nice to feel.Then Mr. Withersq bought black coats both day and night with plad trouwsers for day and smooth black ones for nite and a sport suit with whiskers on it that smelt, with top hats fawn and black and a night hat that popped up and down with a snap.Selia then gotVelvet hats[59]Lace hatsSilk hats with stremersLether hatsStraw hats some with flowrs and fethersBed hats of frills and bowsand all of these had its own privet box to be in and a lid that fitted it. While as to the robes that her loving Harold streud on her no tongue could tell for there was a high stepped lady all to themselves that taurght them what to by and for when which is the worst to know and the things piled up like greased litning till all the persons in the shop left their jobs and all the people too and the boys that wizz the lifts up and down too and all followed and stared to see so rich a man prepar his fate. He topped it all by ordering gloves by boxfuls, a fan as curly as a ostrich and under attire by wisper for his sweet, which she went into a littel privet part to chose herself.And they went out of that shop most[60]exceeding grand dressed all in new things scruffing their shoes on the floor to take the shiny off, carrying parcels all eyes glaring upon them and left boxes and boxes full to come on by Carter Pattisen.“Taxi, sir?” asked the sarjent-looking man at the door bowing more low than at first.“Yes” gruntled Mr. Withersq as the strings of his parcels cut his fingers a bit and he was sore tired.A taxi swam up to the edge of the path and the man opened the door of it and Selia nipped in and sank down in its interiaw.“Where to?” said the driver, which made Mr. Withersq think twice before he spoke that time.Seeing his destress the sarjent-looking man wispered in his ear as a sugestion: “why not the Grand Palace my good sir, it is very sentral.”So Mr. Withersq got to the point at last[61]and ordered the taxi to go to the Grand Palace, which he did.When they got there Mr. Withersq stumped into the hall as he had had an idear.“Trot me out the boss!” he cried to the trembling girl in the glass desk there and she ran for him.When he came he was fat and red.“I am the manager” he utered.“So?” said Mr. Withersq knowing well that would make him feel small. “Well I am Mr. Withersq, my unckle Burt has left me many millions, I have my lady Selia with me, I am the Head Poet of the Land and I wish to rent your second and third floors all to myself one for me and one for her, as only the best will do for us.”“You want two whole floors?” spat the red manager.“I do” said Mr. Withersq.“But what of those who are within the[62]floors?” said the manager who was very afraid by now.“Tell them I will foot their bills” replyed Mr. Withersq “and ask no questions if they will get out.”The red man turned pale now and ran away to do Mr. Withersquashes bequest, and Mr. Withersq went to fech Selia and the band struck up in the hall amongst the parms and sweet flowers, and the girl in the glass desk bowed and so the pair proudly entered and went up the stares to their apartments, and those who had been in the rooms before went hurried down the back stairs, but it was no trouble to them as they knew that they had made on the bargen.After they had gone to their two floors and settled down and sent for all their close, Selia called down the stairs to her Harold: “I say, Squashy dear, lets go for a ride on a horse.”“Why yes” said Mr. Withersq, “that is a[63]very smart thing to do indeed, I wonder we did not think of it before.”So he rang the bell that was standing on a little tabel very handy in the passage, and a dear little boy with three rows of beady butons all up his coat came tripping to reply to it.“Go out and buy me some breeches” ordered Mr. Withersq “my dear little lad. And please get me two whips and a riding skirt for the lady. Be quick back and you can keep the change.”And he handed him a bag full of money.Off tripped the little lad and shortly returned with boxes from a nabouring shop. He had thoughtfully brought all that was the thing, riding boots and hats and whips and gloves for two, and a pair of breeches each, shaggy ones for Mr. Withersq and black for Selia with a coat and skirt in one also to cover her up. They slipped into these things and tossing the remains of the money to the boy[64]they went out and hired two horses and went for a ride in the park to get up an appetite for tea after all they had eaten at the Majpottels. It joggled them up a bit on the horses as all they had ever rode before was at the fairs, still they stuck it and were stout of heart.Just as they were coming out of the Park to go home a poleeceman stopt them.“Are you by way of being Mr. Withersquash?” he asked.“Yes,” said our hero without quaking for he knew he had done no rong, “what of it, eh?”“A messej has just come from the Palace that his dear Magesty the King would like you to slip in to tea and see him, as he wants to see what sort of a new poet he has got.”“Oh, all right,” said Mr. Withersq, “will it do if we go as we are, and do you think I can take Selia too?”“I expect it will be all right” said the[65]poleeceman. “His Magesty is very kind and nice, I dont think he would mind much.”So they rode on their horses down to the Palace, and tied the reins on to those twisty rails in front of it, and the guards in the hairy hats nodded to them, and they went into the front yard and up to the door and then in, as they knew they were expected.Oh what an hour for Mr. Withersq and his Selia to step at last on that envied spot.“Littel did I think when we set out that we should go so far nor do so well” uttered Mr. Withersq in a low tone from respect as they went inside. Just then a junior admiral came stepping smartly to meet them.“Ha good day dear Mr. Withersq” said he with a grin.“Goodday indeed,” responded he. “Let me interduce Selia. Shake hands Selia!” which she did.“Pleased to meet you” said the admiral who[66]was garbed in serge and brade of purest gold. He then went on “Perhaps you’d like to tidy up a bit before you go in to tea?”“If its not troubling you” said Selia, who was a bit shattered in looks after the horse.“Certainly not” said the admiral kindly “we have a special place for that sort of thing. When visiters come in on the hop as you have they generally want a brush and washup by the time they arrive.”“Yes traveling does make one so fussely, does not it” cried Selia in a boomy tone which caused the admiral to open wide his admiring eyes as he had no doubt thought she would be quite common and was glad to find it was not so after all.“Quite, quite” agreed he, adding “and I have sent to tell the guards at the gate to be sure and give your horses some water and straw for their tea so do not worry about them.”[67]“Oh they are not ours thanks all the same” said Mr. Withersq. “Still you might as well have a drink sent out to them if you dont mind, thanks.”The admiral now led them to the place for the toilett and passed them on to the persons there. It was a very vast hall complete with shaving chairs with shavers in silk jackets who soon took Mr. Withersq and wrapped him up in cloths and gave him a good scrape and Selia in turn went to a marbel tabel where one damsel tidyed her hair kindly and another gave her pouder and all those kinds of things and another polished her nails nicely with pinka and wiped her boots over with a velvet and when both were neat they returned to the admiral who was waiting because that is what he was for. So he looked them over and saw there was no hares on Mr. Withersquashes coat and everything as it should be.On he led them down passage after passage[68]and through room after room, and he let them have a peep in to where the best of the m.p.’s were thinking out some new laws which interested them both very much. And in the next room they had a squint at a lot of generals very fierce of mustashe who were practising with swords and guns and keeping their peckers up until the next war in that way because if they dont they get livers and have to retire.And next to them in another room were the sea lords, some of whom waved very friendly to the conductor of our little party, but they were not very busy at work as their time for swimming practise was over for that day, and they were having the half day off, so ideled the time with marveleous jig-saws and draufts and chesses and what not, very cosy in their nice room.At last they came to a very grand high passage all lined with flags of conquered[69]countries and a stuffed lion in a glass case on the left just before a door, which was the door of the room where the King and Queen were, at which both Selia and Harold began to tremble not a little, for of all things they wanted to make a good impression.“Have a heart” cried the admiral kindly, “they will not eat you, and there is no fuss on purpose not to make you feel small as the King well nose that it is a bit queer for a poet like you coming to see him in his Palace for the first time.”At that he gave a respecful tap on the door and departed.They entered meekly into a great room with slippery floor, and in the centre there was a tabel all heaped with flowers and set for about ten and smothered in sweet foods, and at this tabel sat the King and her dear Magesty the Queen was just pouring out tea. They had pushed back their thrones to seem more at[70]home and sat on simpel chairs, and the Princess and the Princes were alas not there, so no doubt they were elsewhere on business.“I am Mr. Withersq” said our hero as he went in, holding Selia by the hand and making a courtly bow, “and this is my lady Selia. We were out riding and only just knew you wanted us so we came strait on.”“That’s all right” said the King, getting up to push two more chairs to the tabel for them. “We’re very glad to see you. Excuse us having started but we didn’t know if you’d get here in time and we were dying for a cup of tea.”“Sit down, do,” said the Queen nicely, because she guest they would not dare to sit unless told.Now Selia found her tongue and said “It is so very good of you to let me come in too, it will be a great help to me, and I have[71]always so wanted to see you, little dreaming I ever should when Ma and I used to go to the pictures together and see you on the Pathe.”“Really now?” said the Queen passing down two more cups of tea for them, “very pleased to see you I’m sure at last. What is this they tell me about your young man’s having done so well at poetry?”So Selia told her all about how he came in for a good bit of money and how they set out to get on in the world, and how Emilyon Boom had turned up his nose, and how Mr. Withersq had got the prize as best poet, and how now if only she could make a hit too they hoped shortly to wed. And the Queen listened very nicely and promised that Emilyon Boom should be punished and not allowed to write poems any more. All this time Selia was getting plenty to eat too.Meantime the King and Mr. Withersq were having a nice chat.[72]“Listen my dear” said the King to the Queen, “my Head Poet is telling me that his young lady wants to make a hit and she is going to shew the world what she can do in the way of sport. Now dont you think we might go and see her, because that will be a help if the people know we are going to be there, wont it? And I have taken a great liking to these young people, and should like to see them happily married.”“Certenly, certenly,” utered the Queen most kindly patting Selia’s hand for a moment so that was setled and after a bit they got up to go and happily remembered to go out through the door backwards and the King waved his hand kindly as they did so to say goodbye, but the Queen was busy ringing the bell for a maid to clear.“I hope he thought I was all right as a poet” Mr. Withersq said outside, “I suppose[73]I shall often have to pop in and see him if he keeps me on.”Just then the King called “Hi!” from inside the room so they peeked in again to see what it was.“Oh I say! I quite forgot your medel” he said, laufing a good bit, “here you are then and blessings on you.” It was a nice little medal like tiny leaves in gold which is what the Head Poet wears so as people know what he is altho’ you dont often see him. So they again bowed and waved goodbye and came out and went back along all the passages and so out into the yard and there the horses still were, looking a bit fed up with waiting so long. And as they strode up to them a very good thing happened, because a photo man from the newspapers came up and took their photos which is fame indeed.“What luck” cried Selia gayly as they rode[74]away, “it was indeed a good idear to go to the poetry school was it not! see how you have got on!”“Yes, I think we are getting on all right” he replyed for of a truth he had learnt by now that it is only the first step that hurts.
They popped quickly together into Bond Street. A tall man like a sarjent stood graveley at the door of the shop Mr. Withersq led his love to, and this tall man pretended to be undoing the door of a motor car when he saw them stopping at the door, and offered Selia his arm as if she was stepping out of her car and then led her up to the door as though she were someone although she had simply come on foot.
Once inside a lordly person in evening dress came swimming up with joined hands and said “What, please?” with a low bow.
Mr. Withersq said very loud: “Underthings” so this gentleman led them through beautiful saloons of costly goods until they got to that part.
[57]A damzel with reddish hair gowned in trailing black satin and beads rose from a couch with a nice smile saying “What, please?” as Mr. Withersq told her. She then ran lightly up a few ladders and threw boxes down until he had chosen the kind of under things he craved from amongst these. There were garments of satin and silk and fleece all very refined and nice but Mr. Withersq chose his to be of peech pink as he thought that was rather fashenable and odd.
He then gave orders for his name and £sd in a little ring to be embroidered on all these and paying her some good few pounds proceeded to another apartment.
“Come Selia,” he cried, “we must quickly make ourselves chick.”
And so with a harty slap on the back he led her on towards the boot part of the shop.
“Show me some shoes and boots of the best” cried he smiling fondly to the lady at the[58]boots, “this is me and my young lady Selia, we are to go in socierty and must dress the part as you doubtless no.”
So he bought a yellow pair with butons and a couple of black pairs of shoes and some white hairy ones and some red house shoes, and Selia had some shiny black shoes with dimond buckles and some pale boots and some openwork boots up the sides and some high shiny boots and some fur boots for the bedroom and satin slippers of every hugh besides stockings to match and silk all the way up at that every time and very nice to feel.
Then Mr. Withersq bought black coats both day and night with plad trouwsers for day and smooth black ones for nite and a sport suit with whiskers on it that smelt, with top hats fawn and black and a night hat that popped up and down with a snap.
Selia then got
and all of these had its own privet box to be in and a lid that fitted it. While as to the robes that her loving Harold streud on her no tongue could tell for there was a high stepped lady all to themselves that taurght them what to by and for when which is the worst to know and the things piled up like greased litning till all the persons in the shop left their jobs and all the people too and the boys that wizz the lifts up and down too and all followed and stared to see so rich a man prepar his fate. He topped it all by ordering gloves by boxfuls, a fan as curly as a ostrich and under attire by wisper for his sweet, which she went into a littel privet part to chose herself.
And they went out of that shop most[60]exceeding grand dressed all in new things scruffing their shoes on the floor to take the shiny off, carrying parcels all eyes glaring upon them and left boxes and boxes full to come on by Carter Pattisen.
“Taxi, sir?” asked the sarjent-looking man at the door bowing more low than at first.
“Yes” gruntled Mr. Withersq as the strings of his parcels cut his fingers a bit and he was sore tired.
A taxi swam up to the edge of the path and the man opened the door of it and Selia nipped in and sank down in its interiaw.
“Where to?” said the driver, which made Mr. Withersq think twice before he spoke that time.
Seeing his destress the sarjent-looking man wispered in his ear as a sugestion: “why not the Grand Palace my good sir, it is very sentral.”
So Mr. Withersq got to the point at last[61]and ordered the taxi to go to the Grand Palace, which he did.
When they got there Mr. Withersq stumped into the hall as he had had an idear.
“Trot me out the boss!” he cried to the trembling girl in the glass desk there and she ran for him.
When he came he was fat and red.
“I am the manager” he utered.
“So?” said Mr. Withersq knowing well that would make him feel small. “Well I am Mr. Withersq, my unckle Burt has left me many millions, I have my lady Selia with me, I am the Head Poet of the Land and I wish to rent your second and third floors all to myself one for me and one for her, as only the best will do for us.”
“You want two whole floors?” spat the red manager.
“I do” said Mr. Withersq.
“But what of those who are within the[62]floors?” said the manager who was very afraid by now.
“Tell them I will foot their bills” replyed Mr. Withersq “and ask no questions if they will get out.”
The red man turned pale now and ran away to do Mr. Withersquashes bequest, and Mr. Withersq went to fech Selia and the band struck up in the hall amongst the parms and sweet flowers, and the girl in the glass desk bowed and so the pair proudly entered and went up the stares to their apartments, and those who had been in the rooms before went hurried down the back stairs, but it was no trouble to them as they knew that they had made on the bargen.
After they had gone to their two floors and settled down and sent for all their close, Selia called down the stairs to her Harold: “I say, Squashy dear, lets go for a ride on a horse.”
“Why yes” said Mr. Withersq, “that is a[63]very smart thing to do indeed, I wonder we did not think of it before.”
So he rang the bell that was standing on a little tabel very handy in the passage, and a dear little boy with three rows of beady butons all up his coat came tripping to reply to it.
“Go out and buy me some breeches” ordered Mr. Withersq “my dear little lad. And please get me two whips and a riding skirt for the lady. Be quick back and you can keep the change.”
And he handed him a bag full of money.
Off tripped the little lad and shortly returned with boxes from a nabouring shop. He had thoughtfully brought all that was the thing, riding boots and hats and whips and gloves for two, and a pair of breeches each, shaggy ones for Mr. Withersq and black for Selia with a coat and skirt in one also to cover her up. They slipped into these things and tossing the remains of the money to the boy[64]they went out and hired two horses and went for a ride in the park to get up an appetite for tea after all they had eaten at the Majpottels. It joggled them up a bit on the horses as all they had ever rode before was at the fairs, still they stuck it and were stout of heart.
Just as they were coming out of the Park to go home a poleeceman stopt them.
“Are you by way of being Mr. Withersquash?” he asked.
“Yes,” said our hero without quaking for he knew he had done no rong, “what of it, eh?”
“A messej has just come from the Palace that his dear Magesty the King would like you to slip in to tea and see him, as he wants to see what sort of a new poet he has got.”
“Oh, all right,” said Mr. Withersq, “will it do if we go as we are, and do you think I can take Selia too?”
“I expect it will be all right” said the[65]poleeceman. “His Magesty is very kind and nice, I dont think he would mind much.”
So they rode on their horses down to the Palace, and tied the reins on to those twisty rails in front of it, and the guards in the hairy hats nodded to them, and they went into the front yard and up to the door and then in, as they knew they were expected.
Oh what an hour for Mr. Withersq and his Selia to step at last on that envied spot.
“Littel did I think when we set out that we should go so far nor do so well” uttered Mr. Withersq in a low tone from respect as they went inside. Just then a junior admiral came stepping smartly to meet them.
“Ha good day dear Mr. Withersq” said he with a grin.
“Goodday indeed,” responded he. “Let me interduce Selia. Shake hands Selia!” which she did.
“Pleased to meet you” said the admiral who[66]was garbed in serge and brade of purest gold. He then went on “Perhaps you’d like to tidy up a bit before you go in to tea?”
“If its not troubling you” said Selia, who was a bit shattered in looks after the horse.
“Certainly not” said the admiral kindly “we have a special place for that sort of thing. When visiters come in on the hop as you have they generally want a brush and washup by the time they arrive.”
“Yes traveling does make one so fussely, does not it” cried Selia in a boomy tone which caused the admiral to open wide his admiring eyes as he had no doubt thought she would be quite common and was glad to find it was not so after all.
“Quite, quite” agreed he, adding “and I have sent to tell the guards at the gate to be sure and give your horses some water and straw for their tea so do not worry about them.”
[67]“Oh they are not ours thanks all the same” said Mr. Withersq. “Still you might as well have a drink sent out to them if you dont mind, thanks.”
The admiral now led them to the place for the toilett and passed them on to the persons there. It was a very vast hall complete with shaving chairs with shavers in silk jackets who soon took Mr. Withersq and wrapped him up in cloths and gave him a good scrape and Selia in turn went to a marbel tabel where one damsel tidyed her hair kindly and another gave her pouder and all those kinds of things and another polished her nails nicely with pinka and wiped her boots over with a velvet and when both were neat they returned to the admiral who was waiting because that is what he was for. So he looked them over and saw there was no hares on Mr. Withersquashes coat and everything as it should be.
On he led them down passage after passage[68]and through room after room, and he let them have a peep in to where the best of the m.p.’s were thinking out some new laws which interested them both very much. And in the next room they had a squint at a lot of generals very fierce of mustashe who were practising with swords and guns and keeping their peckers up until the next war in that way because if they dont they get livers and have to retire.
And next to them in another room were the sea lords, some of whom waved very friendly to the conductor of our little party, but they were not very busy at work as their time for swimming practise was over for that day, and they were having the half day off, so ideled the time with marveleous jig-saws and draufts and chesses and what not, very cosy in their nice room.
At last they came to a very grand high passage all lined with flags of conquered[69]countries and a stuffed lion in a glass case on the left just before a door, which was the door of the room where the King and Queen were, at which both Selia and Harold began to tremble not a little, for of all things they wanted to make a good impression.
“Have a heart” cried the admiral kindly, “they will not eat you, and there is no fuss on purpose not to make you feel small as the King well nose that it is a bit queer for a poet like you coming to see him in his Palace for the first time.”
At that he gave a respecful tap on the door and departed.
They entered meekly into a great room with slippery floor, and in the centre there was a tabel all heaped with flowers and set for about ten and smothered in sweet foods, and at this tabel sat the King and her dear Magesty the Queen was just pouring out tea. They had pushed back their thrones to seem more at[70]home and sat on simpel chairs, and the Princess and the Princes were alas not there, so no doubt they were elsewhere on business.
“I am Mr. Withersq” said our hero as he went in, holding Selia by the hand and making a courtly bow, “and this is my lady Selia. We were out riding and only just knew you wanted us so we came strait on.”
“That’s all right” said the King, getting up to push two more chairs to the tabel for them. “We’re very glad to see you. Excuse us having started but we didn’t know if you’d get here in time and we were dying for a cup of tea.”
“Sit down, do,” said the Queen nicely, because she guest they would not dare to sit unless told.
Now Selia found her tongue and said “It is so very good of you to let me come in too, it will be a great help to me, and I have[71]always so wanted to see you, little dreaming I ever should when Ma and I used to go to the pictures together and see you on the Pathe.”
“Really now?” said the Queen passing down two more cups of tea for them, “very pleased to see you I’m sure at last. What is this they tell me about your young man’s having done so well at poetry?”
So Selia told her all about how he came in for a good bit of money and how they set out to get on in the world, and how Emilyon Boom had turned up his nose, and how Mr. Withersq had got the prize as best poet, and how now if only she could make a hit too they hoped shortly to wed. And the Queen listened very nicely and promised that Emilyon Boom should be punished and not allowed to write poems any more. All this time Selia was getting plenty to eat too.
Meantime the King and Mr. Withersq were having a nice chat.
[72]“Listen my dear” said the King to the Queen, “my Head Poet is telling me that his young lady wants to make a hit and she is going to shew the world what she can do in the way of sport. Now dont you think we might go and see her, because that will be a help if the people know we are going to be there, wont it? And I have taken a great liking to these young people, and should like to see them happily married.”
“Certenly, certenly,” utered the Queen most kindly patting Selia’s hand for a moment so that was setled and after a bit they got up to go and happily remembered to go out through the door backwards and the King waved his hand kindly as they did so to say goodbye, but the Queen was busy ringing the bell for a maid to clear.
“I hope he thought I was all right as a poet” Mr. Withersq said outside, “I suppose[73]I shall often have to pop in and see him if he keeps me on.”
Just then the King called “Hi!” from inside the room so they peeked in again to see what it was.
“Oh I say! I quite forgot your medel” he said, laufing a good bit, “here you are then and blessings on you.” It was a nice little medal like tiny leaves in gold which is what the Head Poet wears so as people know what he is altho’ you dont often see him. So they again bowed and waved goodbye and came out and went back along all the passages and so out into the yard and there the horses still were, looking a bit fed up with waiting so long. And as they strode up to them a very good thing happened, because a photo man from the newspapers came up and took their photos which is fame indeed.
“What luck” cried Selia gayly as they rode[74]away, “it was indeed a good idear to go to the poetry school was it not! see how you have got on!”
“Yes, I think we are getting on all right” he replyed for of a truth he had learnt by now that it is only the first step that hurts.
CHAPTER SEVEN[75]When they got back to the hotel, a goodly knot of persons were about the entrance and dotted in the nobel hall, and at our little heroes arrival their chatter died to a respectful hiss, and bowing nicely to right and left Harold Withersq and his Selia stamped within, but Selia wished all the to do was for her.“Toodleoo” she told her Harold “I am to get my nails done at a place.”“Done?” snarled her sweet. “How done?”“At much cost” said Selia simply so with a delited smile he drew forth the copious money and stuffed the notes in her bag which was like a crocodil with head tail and paws but it was only a little one and lined with stuff. Then Mr. Withersq waved her away so she[76]departed getting a bit mixed up in the roundabout at the door which is only meant for fun but she got jamd.“Now gentlemen” said he stripping off his new butter coloured gloves like banana skins as he had seen heros do on the pictures, “and what may I do for you.” This he had learnt in shops in the old days so it was not very smart.Now these new folk, most men in servicable suits and white collars wearing nose-glasses before their keen eyes but a few ladys in prim attire, stepped up and they were all from newspapers, for the fame of Harold Withersq had spread and he was the talk of the hour. So that the newspapers had snapt at the chance of a bit from him.As the babbel ceased Mr. Withersq made a motion of modesty and sought to retire, but was cort short by a ruddy one in checks who asked him would he write a little for his paper,[77]and another thin one who asked him when he was born, and a lady who commanded him to tell her about love for the ladys page.All agog Mr. Withersq who was never one to lose a chance, made to tell them, knowing no guile, when a sudden thought smote him, he clasped his brow rather earnest for a moment, then brushing them from him, he darted into the glassy telephone box near by.“Hello” cried he to the invisible voice of the girl of the wires, “get me the editer of theDaily Pull” and so stood waiting for it.The assembled crowd breathed in distress for this was a bold move. The girl got Mr. Withersq on after he had stamped a little because of being hot in the glassy box and he sweated so much.“This is Mr. Withersq” he was heard to utter. All were aghast to think he dared to summons that great editor to the phone. The[78]voice of our hero continued very proud for who was he to bend before editors now:“You have heard of me. My unckle Burt having died leaving the goods, you know how I stept into glory, and how I am in society and I have become the Head Poet. Some folks have come to tap my brains for their papers, so I thought I would ring you up instead and proffer to make you a chatty little bit for the front page about how I got on in the world.”“Very good then” he chortled in response to the editors unheard words, “yes indeed it is too true that all are willing to be told how to get there but few arrive. I will do my best by the public.” Cramming down the hear-piece he burst from the box and ambled up to his apartment humming a little air and leaving the crushed crowd below.Did he falter? That no one shall know but he soon picked up, and tucked up his new mauve cuffs, and sat down, and began.[79]And when Selia returned, she tripped into his room where he sat now in a bandana dressing-gown at a desk with a pen in hand and some ink on his nose.“Behold” cried she stripping her gloves and twinkling like jewls her new-polished nails at him, “lo Harold what they have done for me!”“Tush” cried he blotting his last page, yet looked towards her for he dearly loved her did Mr. Withersq and had all of a great man’s easy ways. “Quite a little picture” he went on giving her a good look over. She was indeed improved in a gown with red bits on and slippery shoes very long and nasty-looking but the thing and silk stocking of the best with ventilations on the sides and the crocodil bag and one of those little hats like a hen, which when she took off laid bare a delicous mass of curly hares and her face was made up suitable to a lady. Selia was indeed grand.“Kiss me then” said Harold to be done with[80]it, during which she wetted a new handky and rubbed the ink off his nose.“If I may say so you are rather smart to look at now” he said, “I think that you will be a credit to me and no doubt your time will come.”“Ah that it might” lisped she sorely with a tear, “for of a truth the ladys are none to nice to me when you are absent and I have many a bitter stair with that sideways turn of the head which is so proud from some no better than me but safely married. Or so I take it.”“Shush shush” cried the kind Mr. Withersq. “All will be well, and I will marry you so soon as I can afford to do so without putting my foot in the social hole. And in the meantime I am writing newspapers.”Selia now clapped her hands none knowing better than she to what heits the newspapers can carry some who know how to take bulls by the horns, and then feeling a bit out of it[81]as she noticed him casting an eye on the inkpot once more, crept from the room and went up to her bedroom to have a nap under the quilt, and dream of the rosy days yet to come.When she woke again it was morning for she had been sore tired by all the events and had slept round the clock twice. Beneath her lace-veiled window the voice of many newsboys cried a name she seemed to know, so slipping from her bed she flew to have a peep into the street, and hanging well out she saw oh with what glee and pride writ large on every plachard held before the stomaches of the newsboys these words:HOW I DID IT:ByH. Withersquash(Head Poet)Now was Selia indeed moved to pride, and wept a tear into the window-sill to think how dearly she loved him and how high she had to[82]rise yet before worthy to sit beside him as wife and matron. So she crossed her little fingers and wished hard that she might soon get a good leg up through her good friends the Majpottels, after which she slided out of her clothes and things and had a nice wash in the basin all over altho not knowing that such is corect nature taught her it was best so every day. And while doing up her hair she practiced talking in the new voice and warking with ease in the new thin shoes, and so with a last dab of powder from a pretty little glass pot on her dress-table, she popped downt to breakfast very spry and determined to win.And throughout London newsboys shouted the fame of Mr. Withersquash.
When they got back to the hotel, a goodly knot of persons were about the entrance and dotted in the nobel hall, and at our little heroes arrival their chatter died to a respectful hiss, and bowing nicely to right and left Harold Withersq and his Selia stamped within, but Selia wished all the to do was for her.
“Toodleoo” she told her Harold “I am to get my nails done at a place.”
“Done?” snarled her sweet. “How done?”
“At much cost” said Selia simply so with a delited smile he drew forth the copious money and stuffed the notes in her bag which was like a crocodil with head tail and paws but it was only a little one and lined with stuff. Then Mr. Withersq waved her away so she[76]departed getting a bit mixed up in the roundabout at the door which is only meant for fun but she got jamd.
“Now gentlemen” said he stripping off his new butter coloured gloves like banana skins as he had seen heros do on the pictures, “and what may I do for you.” This he had learnt in shops in the old days so it was not very smart.
Now these new folk, most men in servicable suits and white collars wearing nose-glasses before their keen eyes but a few ladys in prim attire, stepped up and they were all from newspapers, for the fame of Harold Withersq had spread and he was the talk of the hour. So that the newspapers had snapt at the chance of a bit from him.
As the babbel ceased Mr. Withersq made a motion of modesty and sought to retire, but was cort short by a ruddy one in checks who asked him would he write a little for his paper,[77]and another thin one who asked him when he was born, and a lady who commanded him to tell her about love for the ladys page.
All agog Mr. Withersq who was never one to lose a chance, made to tell them, knowing no guile, when a sudden thought smote him, he clasped his brow rather earnest for a moment, then brushing them from him, he darted into the glassy telephone box near by.
“Hello” cried he to the invisible voice of the girl of the wires, “get me the editer of theDaily Pull” and so stood waiting for it.
The assembled crowd breathed in distress for this was a bold move. The girl got Mr. Withersq on after he had stamped a little because of being hot in the glassy box and he sweated so much.
“This is Mr. Withersq” he was heard to utter. All were aghast to think he dared to summons that great editor to the phone. The[78]voice of our hero continued very proud for who was he to bend before editors now:
“You have heard of me. My unckle Burt having died leaving the goods, you know how I stept into glory, and how I am in society and I have become the Head Poet. Some folks have come to tap my brains for their papers, so I thought I would ring you up instead and proffer to make you a chatty little bit for the front page about how I got on in the world.”
“Very good then” he chortled in response to the editors unheard words, “yes indeed it is too true that all are willing to be told how to get there but few arrive. I will do my best by the public.” Cramming down the hear-piece he burst from the box and ambled up to his apartment humming a little air and leaving the crushed crowd below.
Did he falter? That no one shall know but he soon picked up, and tucked up his new mauve cuffs, and sat down, and began.
[79]And when Selia returned, she tripped into his room where he sat now in a bandana dressing-gown at a desk with a pen in hand and some ink on his nose.
“Behold” cried she stripping her gloves and twinkling like jewls her new-polished nails at him, “lo Harold what they have done for me!”
“Tush” cried he blotting his last page, yet looked towards her for he dearly loved her did Mr. Withersq and had all of a great man’s easy ways. “Quite a little picture” he went on giving her a good look over. She was indeed improved in a gown with red bits on and slippery shoes very long and nasty-looking but the thing and silk stocking of the best with ventilations on the sides and the crocodil bag and one of those little hats like a hen, which when she took off laid bare a delicous mass of curly hares and her face was made up suitable to a lady. Selia was indeed grand.
“Kiss me then” said Harold to be done with[80]it, during which she wetted a new handky and rubbed the ink off his nose.
“If I may say so you are rather smart to look at now” he said, “I think that you will be a credit to me and no doubt your time will come.”
“Ah that it might” lisped she sorely with a tear, “for of a truth the ladys are none to nice to me when you are absent and I have many a bitter stair with that sideways turn of the head which is so proud from some no better than me but safely married. Or so I take it.”
“Shush shush” cried the kind Mr. Withersq. “All will be well, and I will marry you so soon as I can afford to do so without putting my foot in the social hole. And in the meantime I am writing newspapers.”
Selia now clapped her hands none knowing better than she to what heits the newspapers can carry some who know how to take bulls by the horns, and then feeling a bit out of it[81]as she noticed him casting an eye on the inkpot once more, crept from the room and went up to her bedroom to have a nap under the quilt, and dream of the rosy days yet to come.
When she woke again it was morning for she had been sore tired by all the events and had slept round the clock twice. Beneath her lace-veiled window the voice of many newsboys cried a name she seemed to know, so slipping from her bed she flew to have a peep into the street, and hanging well out she saw oh with what glee and pride writ large on every plachard held before the stomaches of the newsboys these words:
HOW I DID IT:ByH. Withersquash(Head Poet)
Now was Selia indeed moved to pride, and wept a tear into the window-sill to think how dearly she loved him and how high she had to[82]rise yet before worthy to sit beside him as wife and matron. So she crossed her little fingers and wished hard that she might soon get a good leg up through her good friends the Majpottels, after which she slided out of her clothes and things and had a nice wash in the basin all over altho not knowing that such is corect nature taught her it was best so every day. And while doing up her hair she practiced talking in the new voice and warking with ease in the new thin shoes, and so with a last dab of powder from a pretty little glass pot on her dress-table, she popped downt to breakfast very spry and determined to win.
And throughout London newsboys shouted the fame of Mr. Withersquash.
CHAPTER EIGHT[83]Mr. Withersq was already digging at the last of his second egg with rather a cross face, as he really preferred duck’s eggs as being more sustaining, when she entered their private eating apartment at whose door stood a chef sent to watch over their food by the hotel manager.“Hello dearie” cried he rising and casting the gloom off his face, as he had learnt to rise for ladys by now. “We have a treat in store for to-day.” And he nodded to the chef to bring Selia her breakfast, which the good man with his white hat did and then retired out of the room.“Oh Harold what is it?” she cried settling her new brown gown, “is it a better kind of party?”[84]“Well hardly” said Mr. Withersq resuming his egg, “it is to go to a trial.”“Oh! How delishus” said Selia in glee, “is it a murder?”“No” said Mr. Withersq, “it is much better, it is a divorce, murders being a little vulgar. But the very cream go to divorces, and were it not for my having this morning before you rose purchaced a good half of theDaily Pulland put the editor in my pocket I do not think even we should have got in.”“Oh so now you have a newspaper” chirped his love.“Yes” said Mr. Withersq hortily “and as it is we have seats in the front.”Truly pleased by this thoughtful and lucky idea Selia fell to and despatched her food after which they stepped into a taxi and rode to the law court.It was a dark forboding place somewhat square. A crowd of poor jostled without.[85]The photos of Selia and her Harold were taken as they left the taxi to enter, at which Selia bridled a little but not her Harold. For a flash he feared they were mistaken for the guilty partys but it was not so only his fame.Inside was a great dark hall like church and the ten comandments in frames at the top, between which sat a juge in scarlet and ermin with a white wig, who was on a carved chair, with lawyers on one side in a row and jurys on the other in a pew and the lawyers were all lean and busy with papers, but the jurys were all plump and did nothing but sit.A stir occurred as our heroes entered and were led by a beadel to the front row at which the judge beat his little hammer on the desk of his throne and cried “Ordre” very stern for all present were twisting and craning to get a better view of our pair, more so the ladys of whom there were many with lunsheon baskets seated around.[86]“This is not a school of poetry,” said the judge aside and drew a laugh, so Mr. Withersq knew at once this must be the famous Judge Crop the well-known wit. So they both sat down and settled.The buss died down and silence came as a door at the side opened and amid a murmur of pity the partys to the divorce were led in, pale-faced and dismally clanking the handcuffs on their wrists, and the injured husband led the way. There were three in all, the lady and the villian with meek look following after, and the lady was very soberly dressed in black coat and skirt as befitted her position.A policeman led them to stand in a row before the Judge, and they all three stood mum while the lawyers began to rise one by one and muter and muter and rasple their papers, and bow now and then to the Judge who seemed to sleep nevertheless he opened an eye from time to time.[87]Selia was a bit vexed for she found it dull and it was very hot, and they were so squashed, so she laid back a good bit against her Harold, and attemted to list.“Ha” cried the Judge suddenly waking, “and what have you to say for yourself” as he glared at the villian, so the Wife fell to sobbing, and all the audience were greatly moved. But poor Selia was so sleepy with stuffiness that she dropped off without hearing more and only woke in time to hear the worst. The Villian and Wife had exprest their regrets, the jurys had talked the matter over, and the Judge was sitting on them, with a black cap on his head.In slow and solemn words he drorled forth his mind and the end of it all was that he condemned the Wife and the Villian both to prison for six months to learn to mend their ways, at which the Husband rubbed hands of glee and the wicked Wife and the terrible[88]Villian trailed out to their sad fate, at which the meeting broke up, and some were heard to say it had not been much fun. But Harold said it was a good show, as the Judge had made four jokes. So they pushed out through the throng to the taxi still waiting and poured quietly back home as Harold was to write some more that day about how to make a splash in socierty for the front page of his newspaper.
Mr. Withersq was already digging at the last of his second egg with rather a cross face, as he really preferred duck’s eggs as being more sustaining, when she entered their private eating apartment at whose door stood a chef sent to watch over their food by the hotel manager.
“Hello dearie” cried he rising and casting the gloom off his face, as he had learnt to rise for ladys by now. “We have a treat in store for to-day.” And he nodded to the chef to bring Selia her breakfast, which the good man with his white hat did and then retired out of the room.
“Oh Harold what is it?” she cried settling her new brown gown, “is it a better kind of party?”
[84]“Well hardly” said Mr. Withersq resuming his egg, “it is to go to a trial.”
“Oh! How delishus” said Selia in glee, “is it a murder?”
“No” said Mr. Withersq, “it is much better, it is a divorce, murders being a little vulgar. But the very cream go to divorces, and were it not for my having this morning before you rose purchaced a good half of theDaily Pulland put the editor in my pocket I do not think even we should have got in.”
“Oh so now you have a newspaper” chirped his love.
“Yes” said Mr. Withersq hortily “and as it is we have seats in the front.”
Truly pleased by this thoughtful and lucky idea Selia fell to and despatched her food after which they stepped into a taxi and rode to the law court.
It was a dark forboding place somewhat square. A crowd of poor jostled without.[85]The photos of Selia and her Harold were taken as they left the taxi to enter, at which Selia bridled a little but not her Harold. For a flash he feared they were mistaken for the guilty partys but it was not so only his fame.
Inside was a great dark hall like church and the ten comandments in frames at the top, between which sat a juge in scarlet and ermin with a white wig, who was on a carved chair, with lawyers on one side in a row and jurys on the other in a pew and the lawyers were all lean and busy with papers, but the jurys were all plump and did nothing but sit.
A stir occurred as our heroes entered and were led by a beadel to the front row at which the judge beat his little hammer on the desk of his throne and cried “Ordre” very stern for all present were twisting and craning to get a better view of our pair, more so the ladys of whom there were many with lunsheon baskets seated around.
[86]“This is not a school of poetry,” said the judge aside and drew a laugh, so Mr. Withersq knew at once this must be the famous Judge Crop the well-known wit. So they both sat down and settled.
The buss died down and silence came as a door at the side opened and amid a murmur of pity the partys to the divorce were led in, pale-faced and dismally clanking the handcuffs on their wrists, and the injured husband led the way. There were three in all, the lady and the villian with meek look following after, and the lady was very soberly dressed in black coat and skirt as befitted her position.
A policeman led them to stand in a row before the Judge, and they all three stood mum while the lawyers began to rise one by one and muter and muter and rasple their papers, and bow now and then to the Judge who seemed to sleep nevertheless he opened an eye from time to time.
[87]Selia was a bit vexed for she found it dull and it was very hot, and they were so squashed, so she laid back a good bit against her Harold, and attemted to list.
“Ha” cried the Judge suddenly waking, “and what have you to say for yourself” as he glared at the villian, so the Wife fell to sobbing, and all the audience were greatly moved. But poor Selia was so sleepy with stuffiness that she dropped off without hearing more and only woke in time to hear the worst. The Villian and Wife had exprest their regrets, the jurys had talked the matter over, and the Judge was sitting on them, with a black cap on his head.
In slow and solemn words he drorled forth his mind and the end of it all was that he condemned the Wife and the Villian both to prison for six months to learn to mend their ways, at which the Husband rubbed hands of glee and the wicked Wife and the terrible[88]Villian trailed out to their sad fate, at which the meeting broke up, and some were heard to say it had not been much fun. But Harold said it was a good show, as the Judge had made four jokes. So they pushed out through the throng to the taxi still waiting and poured quietly back home as Harold was to write some more that day about how to make a splash in socierty for the front page of his newspaper.
CHAPTER NINE[89]He departed to his room as soon as they entered and left Selia to herself so she sat on her bed and was bored. Sweet was the sound of the lunch-bell, but she did not speak to Mr. Withersq during the meal as she was cross, and he did not either because he was thinking.Lunch over he called her again to his side.“Alas, alas how fondly I love your charms” he said in his usual softly mode.“Perhaps you do and perhaps you dont” snarled she making herself very stiff as he tried to press her to him. “All the same it would look better if you paid more notice to me instead of to making yourself so grand[90]with writing newspapers, knowing very well you ought to be writing poems, and vexing the King no doubt, as he must have made you Head Poet for something. Unless you find me no more than a drag on you as a humbel girl and wish me to go back to ma.”At this he first brushed cobwebs from his brow in amaze for he had not looked at it from this side, and then laughing much for he was no ill-temperd boor was Withersq, he drew her very loving to his knee and soothed her with strokes, and once more promised all should be well and that the Majpottels had her case in hand and would know when to strike.“Oh dont tell me” she said but nestling a little so as not to be-anger him, “the Majpottels are coming for me at three.”“Coming?” snapped he. “And why may I ask?”“Ah that is a secret” she said archly, feeling[91]now she had got her own back and she coyly rubbed his ears over till they were redder than ever.“Remember. You are mine” he urged rather stern for his was a true love. “I trust you.”“Not half” responded she, and changed the subject.Mr. Withersq now popped her on the floor and got up, feeling for his gloves and hat, as he had got quite used to nice ways now.“Come sweet” he cried, having found them on a green silk sofa under the window. “I have something to show you.”So he led her down the red-carpet stairs towards the hotel door, and the uniform man worked the whirling doors for them very humbly.“Lo” he cried.Oh what a treat for Selia! Drawn up to the footwark what should be there but a motor[92]car painted blue with a blue-coat man to drive it and on the door was painted £sd just as Mr. Withersq had had put on all his underlinen.“It is for us” said he proudly, so they stepped in, the man snapt the door to, and drove to the park.Hardly had they arrived there when a very nice thing occurred for as they glided along the smooth path between the trees, looking very chic and bored, who should they meet but the Countess who had been at the party the first night they burst upon a startled world. So they drew up. The countess who was in a thin white car and working it herself stopped too seeming to know them, and so they had a little chat.“Goodmorning I am the Countess, perhaps you dont recollect me” said she, without smiling or letting the stiff look off her face. Selia who had been about to give a grin stopped herself just in time and continued to[93]have the bored look, which she now knew was the thing when meeting a pal.“Indeed yes” she said very slow as tho’ too tired, yet in her heart determined to push forward now or never, “you weresokind to us.”“Oh dont pray mention it” the smart lady replyed with a well-trained smile, “only too pleased and if you would care to come and have tea with me to-morrow I shall be very delited. I dont think my husband will mind.”“Certainly we will and thank you” said Mr. Withersq, as though he had not heard that last bit.“Is that your dog?” inquired Selia, wishing to chat on for she liked to be beheld chatting in the Park, more so with a Countess.“Yes, that is Lipstick my poodle” the beauty said yawning, but it wasn’t realy a poodle, rather more like a white dashund with rough hare and very polished eyes.“How sweet he is” lisped Selia.[94]“Is not he?” replyed their new friend “and how charming your new car is!”“Yes” said Selia “it is not so bad,” and her heart gave a secret bound with pride, “well we must toddle now. Gooby.”“Gooby” replyed the Countess and pulled a thing and so moved away, leaving them very pleased with how they were getting on.When they had gone all along the gravel path, and across the bridge by the Serpentine and up to Bayswater, and then back, having successfully caused a few horses with riders on them to dance on their back legs, which is why many folks go in motors in the Park, as this is a sort of sport, Selia spoke again.“It is a very nice car indeed” she said a little in confusion, “and runs smooth as butter. But now I must be getting back dear Harold.”Scowling on her, Mr. Withersq poked his head out of the side door and told the man to go back to the hotel, which he did, making[95]that popping noise all down Piccadilly, and when they got to the door Mr. Withersq got out, helped Selia down, raised his hat and waited for her to depart within the hotel.Dearly wishing to teaze his male curiossity she lingered a little until stung into madness by her mystery he said very stern.“Do not trifle with a good man’s affections.”“Ho!” quoth she, “trifle? Indeed I do not trifle but do my bit as well as may be so that all should end well. And if you had asked me why I retire I would have told you but now wild horses should not make me speak because of your bad heart.”With a careless laugh she plunged in through the doors and was immediately fallen upon by the Majpottels who had on their pink and blue shirts, with pale grey suits and straw hats in hand, beaming with long sad smiles into her face, and so between them they walked the length of the hall and back, chatting (this[96]was to exercise Selia in the art of social ease) and then sat awhile in green-painted basket chairs near the parms. Now it was a very hot day and both of the brothers were reddish and rather damp, but noblesse obliged them not to mop their heads and necks as this is low.“What will you drink” uttered Gerald politely to Selia.“What is smart?” asked she very low.“Oh you had better have a coktale” replyed he “as that is all ladys drink just at present,” and so he ordered one, but Selia made a mistake and let the cherry at the bottom of the little tubby glass into her mouth and so had to put the stone out. Rupert frowned on her a little for this, and she saw that the elegant brothers had left their cherry alone uneaten. She made note of this for the future.“You’ll be wanting to change wont you” now wispered Gerald, who was looking rather lively. Selia took the hint and went up to her[97]apartment, not knowing in deuce what she should wear out of the many attires concealed within the drawers there.To her surprise, as she entered the room, a small squabby woman in black with black velvet and some white frills in her hair rose from a seat by the window.“I am Madames new maid” this person said with a nice bow of respect, “my name is Scrogg. What would Madame like to wear.”This vision so took away our herione’s breath that she hardly new what to say for a moment, then laughing to herself as she guest what it was, and thought of all that it meant to be a rich man’s pet, she turned coldly aside and wispered something to the new maid who went at once to the proper draw and drew forth what was needful.Selia was a modest girl and had not been used to undressing before folks, but knew that it had to be done and summoning her[98]strength she gave herself up to be divested of her attire, and arrayed anew in purest white suitable for her secret errand.“A more simpel mode for the hair?” suggested Scrogg who was very nifty. Selia nodded as she guest this was better.Fresh as paint and smelling a little of something Scrogg had sprinkled at her on leaving, Selia descended once more to the waiting Majpottels who sat each with chin on stick, leaving Scrogg to tidy away which is what a maid largely is for and saves a heap of time.In her heart Selia was not quite sure whether Scrogg was an offspring of the Majpottels minds or whether a pretty attention of her dear Harolds so she said nothing. And as a matter of fact it was Gerald who had done it, knowing she needed a woman’s care, and he had got Scrogg at great cost from a Lord, for he too in his way was one to stick at nothing.
He departed to his room as soon as they entered and left Selia to herself so she sat on her bed and was bored. Sweet was the sound of the lunch-bell, but she did not speak to Mr. Withersq during the meal as she was cross, and he did not either because he was thinking.
Lunch over he called her again to his side.
“Alas, alas how fondly I love your charms” he said in his usual softly mode.
“Perhaps you do and perhaps you dont” snarled she making herself very stiff as he tried to press her to him. “All the same it would look better if you paid more notice to me instead of to making yourself so grand[90]with writing newspapers, knowing very well you ought to be writing poems, and vexing the King no doubt, as he must have made you Head Poet for something. Unless you find me no more than a drag on you as a humbel girl and wish me to go back to ma.”
At this he first brushed cobwebs from his brow in amaze for he had not looked at it from this side, and then laughing much for he was no ill-temperd boor was Withersq, he drew her very loving to his knee and soothed her with strokes, and once more promised all should be well and that the Majpottels had her case in hand and would know when to strike.
“Oh dont tell me” she said but nestling a little so as not to be-anger him, “the Majpottels are coming for me at three.”
“Coming?” snapped he. “And why may I ask?”
“Ah that is a secret” she said archly, feeling[91]now she had got her own back and she coyly rubbed his ears over till they were redder than ever.
“Remember. You are mine” he urged rather stern for his was a true love. “I trust you.”
“Not half” responded she, and changed the subject.
Mr. Withersq now popped her on the floor and got up, feeling for his gloves and hat, as he had got quite used to nice ways now.
“Come sweet” he cried, having found them on a green silk sofa under the window. “I have something to show you.”
So he led her down the red-carpet stairs towards the hotel door, and the uniform man worked the whirling doors for them very humbly.
“Lo” he cried.
Oh what a treat for Selia! Drawn up to the footwark what should be there but a motor[92]car painted blue with a blue-coat man to drive it and on the door was painted £sd just as Mr. Withersq had had put on all his underlinen.
“It is for us” said he proudly, so they stepped in, the man snapt the door to, and drove to the park.
Hardly had they arrived there when a very nice thing occurred for as they glided along the smooth path between the trees, looking very chic and bored, who should they meet but the Countess who had been at the party the first night they burst upon a startled world. So they drew up. The countess who was in a thin white car and working it herself stopped too seeming to know them, and so they had a little chat.
“Goodmorning I am the Countess, perhaps you dont recollect me” said she, without smiling or letting the stiff look off her face. Selia who had been about to give a grin stopped herself just in time and continued to[93]have the bored look, which she now knew was the thing when meeting a pal.
“Indeed yes” she said very slow as tho’ too tired, yet in her heart determined to push forward now or never, “you weresokind to us.”
“Oh dont pray mention it” the smart lady replyed with a well-trained smile, “only too pleased and if you would care to come and have tea with me to-morrow I shall be very delited. I dont think my husband will mind.”
“Certainly we will and thank you” said Mr. Withersq, as though he had not heard that last bit.
“Is that your dog?” inquired Selia, wishing to chat on for she liked to be beheld chatting in the Park, more so with a Countess.
“Yes, that is Lipstick my poodle” the beauty said yawning, but it wasn’t realy a poodle, rather more like a white dashund with rough hare and very polished eyes.
“How sweet he is” lisped Selia.
[94]“Is not he?” replyed their new friend “and how charming your new car is!”
“Yes” said Selia “it is not so bad,” and her heart gave a secret bound with pride, “well we must toddle now. Gooby.”
“Gooby” replyed the Countess and pulled a thing and so moved away, leaving them very pleased with how they were getting on.
When they had gone all along the gravel path, and across the bridge by the Serpentine and up to Bayswater, and then back, having successfully caused a few horses with riders on them to dance on their back legs, which is why many folks go in motors in the Park, as this is a sort of sport, Selia spoke again.
“It is a very nice car indeed” she said a little in confusion, “and runs smooth as butter. But now I must be getting back dear Harold.”
Scowling on her, Mr. Withersq poked his head out of the side door and told the man to go back to the hotel, which he did, making[95]that popping noise all down Piccadilly, and when they got to the door Mr. Withersq got out, helped Selia down, raised his hat and waited for her to depart within the hotel.
Dearly wishing to teaze his male curiossity she lingered a little until stung into madness by her mystery he said very stern.
“Do not trifle with a good man’s affections.”
“Ho!” quoth she, “trifle? Indeed I do not trifle but do my bit as well as may be so that all should end well. And if you had asked me why I retire I would have told you but now wild horses should not make me speak because of your bad heart.”
With a careless laugh she plunged in through the doors and was immediately fallen upon by the Majpottels who had on their pink and blue shirts, with pale grey suits and straw hats in hand, beaming with long sad smiles into her face, and so between them they walked the length of the hall and back, chatting (this[96]was to exercise Selia in the art of social ease) and then sat awhile in green-painted basket chairs near the parms. Now it was a very hot day and both of the brothers were reddish and rather damp, but noblesse obliged them not to mop their heads and necks as this is low.
“What will you drink” uttered Gerald politely to Selia.
“What is smart?” asked she very low.
“Oh you had better have a coktale” replyed he “as that is all ladys drink just at present,” and so he ordered one, but Selia made a mistake and let the cherry at the bottom of the little tubby glass into her mouth and so had to put the stone out. Rupert frowned on her a little for this, and she saw that the elegant brothers had left their cherry alone uneaten. She made note of this for the future.
“You’ll be wanting to change wont you” now wispered Gerald, who was looking rather lively. Selia took the hint and went up to her[97]apartment, not knowing in deuce what she should wear out of the many attires concealed within the drawers there.
To her surprise, as she entered the room, a small squabby woman in black with black velvet and some white frills in her hair rose from a seat by the window.
“I am Madames new maid” this person said with a nice bow of respect, “my name is Scrogg. What would Madame like to wear.”
This vision so took away our herione’s breath that she hardly new what to say for a moment, then laughing to herself as she guest what it was, and thought of all that it meant to be a rich man’s pet, she turned coldly aside and wispered something to the new maid who went at once to the proper draw and drew forth what was needful.
Selia was a modest girl and had not been used to undressing before folks, but knew that it had to be done and summoning her[98]strength she gave herself up to be divested of her attire, and arrayed anew in purest white suitable for her secret errand.
“A more simpel mode for the hair?” suggested Scrogg who was very nifty. Selia nodded as she guest this was better.
Fresh as paint and smelling a little of something Scrogg had sprinkled at her on leaving, Selia descended once more to the waiting Majpottels who sat each with chin on stick, leaving Scrogg to tidy away which is what a maid largely is for and saves a heap of time.
In her heart Selia was not quite sure whether Scrogg was an offspring of the Majpottels minds or whether a pretty attention of her dear Harolds so she said nothing. And as a matter of fact it was Gerald who had done it, knowing she needed a woman’s care, and he had got Scrogg at great cost from a Lord, for he too in his way was one to stick at nothing.
CHAPTER TEN[99]It was quite late in fact it was almost eight when Selia came back and tho she knew she had done no wrong she felt a little sly as she quickly slipped up the hotel stares, gazed on by the usual knot of folk who hung around to get a peep of her and Harold in the hotel lounge. She panted into the eating apartment. No one. So she popped up into her room where Scrogg sat eating a sandwich, and got off her white which was now dashed, and Scrogg fluffed her hair out archly, and put her into a evening gown, making her tuck her vest straps under her arms and expose a great deal too much or so she felt but Scrogg said no it had to be so. Scrogg then told her one or two things which[100]opened her eyes. But she affected to hear nothing altho really it soaked in.After a gaze in the mirror which pleased her as she looked quite like a lady by now with waved hair and a sleek traily gown of black with lace streamers hanging, and all her neck and front and half her back bare, she sailed from the room as Scrogg told her a rather diffrent walk is needed in the evening much more snake-like. Entering once more the eating-apartment, she found the white-hatted chef alone, altho’ the table was set.“Where is Mr. Withersq” said she.“I am afraid he is not well” the chief replied “he entered a little while ago, with pale look, and went away again.”Like a hen robbed of her young Selia darted to the room of her Harold. There spread on the imense wooden bed with four posts, lay her devestated Harold, and the blinds were down.[101]Tiptoeing in “What is it, what is it” she cried, “Have you written too much?”“It is not that,” came the mournful voice of our hero from the bed, “it is worse. I am a ruined man.”“Oh, Harold!” gasped the distracted Selia in dismay.A great groan burst from his brest. Together they sobbed a while.“Come” said Selia at last “I command you tell me what it is. Are you married in secret?”“No, not so bad as that perhaps, because it can be cured.”“Are you going to prison? Are you mad?”“No, no” sniveled the wretched man. “I cant tell you.”“Dont say the money has gone!”“Ah no” cried he of a sudden sitting up at the mere idear, “ah no! I think we shall yet win, but it is a bad mess I am in.”And so he sobbed out his sad story.[102]During the while she had been away that day who should Harold meet but the head poet of the limerick class from the school of poetry and they had been to have a quick one together. Falling into talk as men will they had begun to exchange the latest tales, some not too nice, and indeed most of what Harold had brought with him from the lower world but he thought that the limerick poet would not mind as poets always like low life. He had told him a couple of good ones, and as it happened they were both about sport.“I thought something was up” moaned the unhappy man, “for he gave me a very funny look. And as we were to come out, as we stood with our toothpicks on the step, he made a fishy excuse to pop off for a minute. When he came back he said there was a man he would like me to meet, so we went in the new car. It was a house out of Oxford St., which I thought strange, still as I was having a sigar[103]I thought perhaps it was that made me a bit nervy. Imagine my woe when we entered and I then found myself alone and defenseless with ... what do you think?”“Lie down dear Harold and dont get excited” Selia said altho she was all agogg herself. “What was it? Cardsharpers?”“Oh, no” sighed he, “it was the smell that told me almost before I was within, like floor-polish and cough-drops mixed and a bit of gin thrown in for sport. No, it was a doctors, one of the costly kind with carpets on the floor and carving instruments in glass cases.”“A doctor!” screamed Selia. “Have you then an ilness?” And she rapidly mopped odor cologne on to his brow cuasing him to sneze which eased him.“Well it is a kind of ilness but very odd and you will not catch it” he said. “And I think it was a trick tho’ meant well by the limerick-poet as you will see.”[104]“How so?” said Selia very bold for she would have tore his enemys in half.“Well to cut a long story short, I have got a kind of hidden passion which is nawing at my heart, and that is why I cannot write any more poems.”“What did the Doctor do to you” urged she eager to get to the point and hear the worst, “did he operate?”“No he was very kind” said Harold propping himself up a bit against his pillows “and it took me a long while to get the hang of it all. He told me I have been under a strane and feared I was ill and wished to ask me a few questions. Said he leaning back and making cats cradles on his pink fingers, “have you anything on your mind?”So of course says I, “No.”At that he shot me a serpentine glance.“Now my good man” said he “just let your mind ease out and answer me at random.”[105]“As I was feeling a bit mad I thought it best to humor him as I feared otherwise I might give him a smartish tap for you know what I am when roused.”“Bat” said he to me, simple like.“Ball” said I to humour him.“Out” says he cunning.“Over” says I to catch him, and this got him for a moment. Then he dartled to a little exercise book and made a mark in it on some squares, and rang his bell at which a seceretary came in, and mutered with her, till she went out. A nice girl in a white blouse too.”“Ha” said Selia as tho’ stung. “But what were they at.”“Well dearest you see it is a new disease. The doctors being hard up between you and me and the gatepost because the herd are not dying off so much as they did.”“No I’ve noticed that, there’s hardly ever a nice funeral nowadays,” said Selia.[106]“Well and what with that and having no more apendicles to cut out they had to be at something fresh,” he continued.“I see” said Selia who as will have been noticed had growed almost meek in these latter days and sat merely stroking her Harolds hand in pity.“So now they declare in their bold way that all clever folk have a brane sickness on the lines of a drain stoppage (if you will excuse me) and he was artful-like pumping me to try and find out what had stopped the drain.”“Oh!” With a yell Selia lept from the bed.“Calm yourself Selia” said her Harold, preparing to rise from his couch, “for you know what bad form it is to show emoshun. And all these adventers of mine are very smart indeed.”“Smart? How smart?” snapt she quivering with distres partly from the snub she had had.“Sit down dear Selia” he said with a cool[107]drorl, “and I will tell you how for you know we must let nothing get past us even if it is only a sickness.”“Too true” she said subsidising somewhat and becoming seated though at a distance.“Well I think this must be very like the latest craze of all” he said passing his hand over his brow and settling again on the bed, “though come too soon in my career as it is more fitted to those who are played out whereas I am only at the post as you might say and in my first flush. Still there is no saying but itissmart.”So Selia came and sat again on the bed’s side while her love got it off his chest which is always a good thing even in high life.“Well this old meddiko kept on at me and on and on and I began to get sleepy because it was hot and there was a blue-bottel buzzing. I do not know what I said but he was very interested. Suddenly he sprang up. ‘Eureka’[108]he cried, and began pacing up and down and down and up till I went quite swimmy. So then it all came out.”“And what was it” inquired Selia all agag.“It was cricket.”“What was?”“My sickness.”“How so? You were sick with cricket. What cricket? Come do not play any tosh with me.”“It is no tosh” said Harold simpering a little with pride. “I am the first case. Of course between you and me it is somewhat tosh. Still they are writing a article on me called ‘Sport and Poetry: a Sycoanalsis of Genius’ to prove that I am suffering from a sort of squashed wish to play cricket just as Shakespere suffered because his wish to play tennis was squashed as he had not got the price.”[109]“Oh I see” said Selia which she now knew whas a useful thing to say.“Dont interrupt” said he giving himself one or two airs “it is all due to the squashed wish. It is quite true I have said to myself lately that now the summer is come it is a pity I am a rich man because I cannot now very well play with the boys as I did, and I dreamt a bit about the good old times, and thought of the ball I left in a box under my bed. Still, that was all it was and we ought to be glad it was no worse for it seems some men suffer from squashed wishes of a kind it would little befit me to tell you of.”“Go on” said she “I’ve got you now. I read of it in the Sunday papers.”“Indeed” quoth he “I did not know you were so advansed. It all goes to show how truly I chose you for mine own dearest Selia.”[110]“Hity tity” quoth she somewhat nettled, “not so much stiffness even if you have a squashed wish. You need not be so uppish towards me.”“Indeed must I” corrected he “for if we are not stiff in private we may make a slip before the world, and that will do no one any good, will it?”Springing from the bed now, he went to the mirror and administered a little patting to his attire to settle himself after being couched, then pressing a kiss on the nape of his dear, he prepared to lead her from the room.“Come, fair” said he, this he had overheard at the first party and kept for use “we have lobster for dinner, so let’s make a hop.”They entered the dining-apartment where the chef had patiently waited keeping the lobster on ice till needed, and they sat down and tucked in, pondering within a while the new sickness of Harold.[111]“And is your squashed wish cured now?” said she at last, wondering what form it might take.“Yes thank you it is greatly better, for it is only a matter of letting the back come to the front as in telling the doctor of it, and then all is eased.”“I see” said she “and I am glad you will not play cricket for of a truth I think it is a little common.”And as they had now finished they wiped their mouths, and he helped her rise, and they went by their blue car to the opera where Mr. Withersq had retained a box.The opera of course was already on, and as they were both more than a little tired and could not chatter as much as the fashion required Mr. Withersq hired a small gramafone from the box office which they plaiced on the ground between their two gold chairs in their regal box which was trimmed with red plush,[112]and this they put on from time to time in the dull parts, which drew much attention as it could be quite clearly heard all over the theater, during the softer parts of the music, which is the idea and much simpler than having to keep on jawing. Because it is not smart to sit silent at the opera.And when the hero had killed the heroine and sang a long song over her corpse, they got up and went out and the crowd clapped a good bit to see them go. And so they went home to bed.
It was quite late in fact it was almost eight when Selia came back and tho she knew she had done no wrong she felt a little sly as she quickly slipped up the hotel stares, gazed on by the usual knot of folk who hung around to get a peep of her and Harold in the hotel lounge. She panted into the eating apartment. No one. So she popped up into her room where Scrogg sat eating a sandwich, and got off her white which was now dashed, and Scrogg fluffed her hair out archly, and put her into a evening gown, making her tuck her vest straps under her arms and expose a great deal too much or so she felt but Scrogg said no it had to be so. Scrogg then told her one or two things which[100]opened her eyes. But she affected to hear nothing altho really it soaked in.
After a gaze in the mirror which pleased her as she looked quite like a lady by now with waved hair and a sleek traily gown of black with lace streamers hanging, and all her neck and front and half her back bare, she sailed from the room as Scrogg told her a rather diffrent walk is needed in the evening much more snake-like. Entering once more the eating-apartment, she found the white-hatted chef alone, altho’ the table was set.
“Where is Mr. Withersq” said she.
“I am afraid he is not well” the chief replied “he entered a little while ago, with pale look, and went away again.”
Like a hen robbed of her young Selia darted to the room of her Harold. There spread on the imense wooden bed with four posts, lay her devestated Harold, and the blinds were down.
[101]Tiptoeing in “What is it, what is it” she cried, “Have you written too much?”
“It is not that,” came the mournful voice of our hero from the bed, “it is worse. I am a ruined man.”
“Oh, Harold!” gasped the distracted Selia in dismay.
A great groan burst from his brest. Together they sobbed a while.
“Come” said Selia at last “I command you tell me what it is. Are you married in secret?”
“No, not so bad as that perhaps, because it can be cured.”
“Are you going to prison? Are you mad?”
“No, no” sniveled the wretched man. “I cant tell you.”
“Dont say the money has gone!”
“Ah no” cried he of a sudden sitting up at the mere idear, “ah no! I think we shall yet win, but it is a bad mess I am in.”
And so he sobbed out his sad story.
[102]During the while she had been away that day who should Harold meet but the head poet of the limerick class from the school of poetry and they had been to have a quick one together. Falling into talk as men will they had begun to exchange the latest tales, some not too nice, and indeed most of what Harold had brought with him from the lower world but he thought that the limerick poet would not mind as poets always like low life. He had told him a couple of good ones, and as it happened they were both about sport.
“I thought something was up” moaned the unhappy man, “for he gave me a very funny look. And as we were to come out, as we stood with our toothpicks on the step, he made a fishy excuse to pop off for a minute. When he came back he said there was a man he would like me to meet, so we went in the new car. It was a house out of Oxford St., which I thought strange, still as I was having a sigar[103]I thought perhaps it was that made me a bit nervy. Imagine my woe when we entered and I then found myself alone and defenseless with ... what do you think?”
“Lie down dear Harold and dont get excited” Selia said altho she was all agogg herself. “What was it? Cardsharpers?”
“Oh, no” sighed he, “it was the smell that told me almost before I was within, like floor-polish and cough-drops mixed and a bit of gin thrown in for sport. No, it was a doctors, one of the costly kind with carpets on the floor and carving instruments in glass cases.”
“A doctor!” screamed Selia. “Have you then an ilness?” And she rapidly mopped odor cologne on to his brow cuasing him to sneze which eased him.
“Well it is a kind of ilness but very odd and you will not catch it” he said. “And I think it was a trick tho’ meant well by the limerick-poet as you will see.”
[104]“How so?” said Selia very bold for she would have tore his enemys in half.
“Well to cut a long story short, I have got a kind of hidden passion which is nawing at my heart, and that is why I cannot write any more poems.”
“What did the Doctor do to you” urged she eager to get to the point and hear the worst, “did he operate?”
“No he was very kind” said Harold propping himself up a bit against his pillows “and it took me a long while to get the hang of it all. He told me I have been under a strane and feared I was ill and wished to ask me a few questions. Said he leaning back and making cats cradles on his pink fingers, “have you anything on your mind?”
So of course says I, “No.”
At that he shot me a serpentine glance.
“Now my good man” said he “just let your mind ease out and answer me at random.”
[105]“As I was feeling a bit mad I thought it best to humor him as I feared otherwise I might give him a smartish tap for you know what I am when roused.”
“Bat” said he to me, simple like.
“Ball” said I to humour him.
“Out” says he cunning.
“Over” says I to catch him, and this got him for a moment. Then he dartled to a little exercise book and made a mark in it on some squares, and rang his bell at which a seceretary came in, and mutered with her, till she went out. A nice girl in a white blouse too.”
“Ha” said Selia as tho’ stung. “But what were they at.”
“Well dearest you see it is a new disease. The doctors being hard up between you and me and the gatepost because the herd are not dying off so much as they did.”
“No I’ve noticed that, there’s hardly ever a nice funeral nowadays,” said Selia.
[106]“Well and what with that and having no more apendicles to cut out they had to be at something fresh,” he continued.
“I see” said Selia who as will have been noticed had growed almost meek in these latter days and sat merely stroking her Harolds hand in pity.
“So now they declare in their bold way that all clever folk have a brane sickness on the lines of a drain stoppage (if you will excuse me) and he was artful-like pumping me to try and find out what had stopped the drain.”
“Oh!” With a yell Selia lept from the bed.
“Calm yourself Selia” said her Harold, preparing to rise from his couch, “for you know what bad form it is to show emoshun. And all these adventers of mine are very smart indeed.”
“Smart? How smart?” snapt she quivering with distres partly from the snub she had had.
“Sit down dear Selia” he said with a cool[107]drorl, “and I will tell you how for you know we must let nothing get past us even if it is only a sickness.”
“Too true” she said subsidising somewhat and becoming seated though at a distance.
“Well I think this must be very like the latest craze of all” he said passing his hand over his brow and settling again on the bed, “though come too soon in my career as it is more fitted to those who are played out whereas I am only at the post as you might say and in my first flush. Still there is no saying but itissmart.”
So Selia came and sat again on the bed’s side while her love got it off his chest which is always a good thing even in high life.
“Well this old meddiko kept on at me and on and on and I began to get sleepy because it was hot and there was a blue-bottel buzzing. I do not know what I said but he was very interested. Suddenly he sprang up. ‘Eureka’[108]he cried, and began pacing up and down and down and up till I went quite swimmy. So then it all came out.”
“And what was it” inquired Selia all agag.
“It was cricket.”
“What was?”
“My sickness.”
“How so? You were sick with cricket. What cricket? Come do not play any tosh with me.”
“It is no tosh” said Harold simpering a little with pride. “I am the first case. Of course between you and me it is somewhat tosh. Still they are writing a article on me called ‘Sport and Poetry: a Sycoanalsis of Genius’ to prove that I am suffering from a sort of squashed wish to play cricket just as Shakespere suffered because his wish to play tennis was squashed as he had not got the price.”
[109]“Oh I see” said Selia which she now knew whas a useful thing to say.
“Dont interrupt” said he giving himself one or two airs “it is all due to the squashed wish. It is quite true I have said to myself lately that now the summer is come it is a pity I am a rich man because I cannot now very well play with the boys as I did, and I dreamt a bit about the good old times, and thought of the ball I left in a box under my bed. Still, that was all it was and we ought to be glad it was no worse for it seems some men suffer from squashed wishes of a kind it would little befit me to tell you of.”
“Go on” said she “I’ve got you now. I read of it in the Sunday papers.”
“Indeed” quoth he “I did not know you were so advansed. It all goes to show how truly I chose you for mine own dearest Selia.”
[110]“Hity tity” quoth she somewhat nettled, “not so much stiffness even if you have a squashed wish. You need not be so uppish towards me.”
“Indeed must I” corrected he “for if we are not stiff in private we may make a slip before the world, and that will do no one any good, will it?”
Springing from the bed now, he went to the mirror and administered a little patting to his attire to settle himself after being couched, then pressing a kiss on the nape of his dear, he prepared to lead her from the room.
“Come, fair” said he, this he had overheard at the first party and kept for use “we have lobster for dinner, so let’s make a hop.”
They entered the dining-apartment where the chef had patiently waited keeping the lobster on ice till needed, and they sat down and tucked in, pondering within a while the new sickness of Harold.
[111]“And is your squashed wish cured now?” said she at last, wondering what form it might take.
“Yes thank you it is greatly better, for it is only a matter of letting the back come to the front as in telling the doctor of it, and then all is eased.”
“I see” said she “and I am glad you will not play cricket for of a truth I think it is a little common.”
And as they had now finished they wiped their mouths, and he helped her rise, and they went by their blue car to the opera where Mr. Withersq had retained a box.
The opera of course was already on, and as they were both more than a little tired and could not chatter as much as the fashion required Mr. Withersq hired a small gramafone from the box office which they plaiced on the ground between their two gold chairs in their regal box which was trimmed with red plush,[112]and this they put on from time to time in the dull parts, which drew much attention as it could be quite clearly heard all over the theater, during the softer parts of the music, which is the idea and much simpler than having to keep on jawing. Because it is not smart to sit silent at the opera.
And when the hero had killed the heroine and sang a long song over her corpse, they got up and went out and the crowd clapped a good bit to see them go. And so they went home to bed.