Novel Notes [69]
'an idea occurs to me. Does she know of your identity with Smith?'
"'No,' he replied, alarmed, 'I would not have her know it for worlds. Only yesterday she told me that I reminded her of a fellow she had met at Yarmouth, and my heart was in my mouth.'
"'How did she look when she told you that?' I asked.
"'How did she look?' he repeated, not understanding me.
"'What was her expression at that moment?' I said--'was it severe or tender?'
"'Well,' he replied, 'now I come to think of it, she did seem to soften a bit just then.'
"'My dear boy,' I said, 'the case is as clear as day-light. She loves Smith. No girl who admired Smith could be attracted by Smythe. As your present self you will never win her. In a few weeks' time, however, you will be Smith. Leave the matter over until then. Propose to her as Smith, and she will accept you. After marriage you can break Smythe gently to her.'
"'By Jove!' he exclaimed, startled out of his customary lethargy, 'I never thought of that. The truth is, when I am in my right senses, Smith and all his affairs seem like a dream to me. Any idea connected with him would never enter my mind.'
"He rose and held out his hand. 'I am so glad I came to see you,' he said; 'your suggestion has almost reconciled me to my miserable fate. Indeed, I quite look forward to a month of Smith, now.'
"'I'm so pleased,' I answered, shaking hands with him. 'Mind you come and tell me how you get on. Another man's love affairs are not usually absorbing, but there is an element of interest about yours that renders the case exceptional.'
"We parted, and I did not see him again for another month. Then, late one evening, the servant knocked at my door to say that a Mr. Smith wished to see me.
"'Smith, Smith,' I repeated; 'what Smith? didn't he give you a card?'
"'No, sir,' answered the girl; 'he doesn't look the sort that would have a card. He's not a gentleman, sir; but he says you'll know him.' She evidently regarded the statement as an aspersion upon myself.
"I was about to tell her to say I was out, when the recollection of Smythe's other self flashed into my mind, and I directed her to send him up.
"A minute passed, and then he entered. He was wearing a new suit of a louder pattern, if possible, than before. I think he must have designed it himself. He looked hot and greasy. He did not offer to shake hands, but sat down awkwardly on the extreme edge of a small chair, and gaped about the room as if he had never seen it before.
"He communicated his shyness to myself. I could not think what to say, and we sat for a while in painful silence.
"'Well,' I said, at last, plunging head-foremost into the matter, according to the method of shy people, 'and how's 'Liza?'
"'Oh, SHE'S all right,' he replied, keeping his eyes fixed on his hat.
"'Have you done it?' I continued.
"'Done wot?' he asked, looking up.
"'Married her.'
"'No,' he answered, returning to the contemplation of his hat.
"'Has she refused you then?' I said.
"'I ain't arst 'er,' he returned.
He seemed unwilling to explain matters of his own accord. I had to put the conversation into the form of a cross-examination.
"'Why not?' I asked; 'don't you think she cares for you any longer?'
He burst into a harsh laugh. 'There ain't much fear o' that,' he said; 'it's like 'aving an Alcock's porous plaster mashed on yer, blowed if it ain't. There's no gettin' rid of 'er. I wish she'd giv' somebody else a turn. I'm fair sick of 'er.'
"'But you were enthusiastic about her a month ago!' I exclaimed in astonishment.
"'Smythe may 'ave been,' he said; 'there ain't no accounting for that ninny, 'is 'ead's full of starch. Anyhow, I don't take 'er on while I'm myself. I'm too jolly fly.'
"'That sort o' gal's all right enough to lark with,' he continued; 'but yer don't want to marry 'em. They don't do yer no good. A man wants a wife as 'e can respect--some one as is a cut above 'imself, as will raise 'im up a peg or two--some one as 'e can look up to and worship. A
"'No,' he replied, alarmed, 'I would not have her know it for worlds. Only yesterday she told me that I reminded her of a fellow she had met at Yarmouth, and my heart was in my mouth.'
"'How did she look when she told you that?' I asked.
"'How did she look?' he repeated, not understanding me.
"'What was her expression at that moment?' I said--'was it severe or tender?'
"'Well,' he replied, 'now I come to think of it, she did seem to soften a bit just then.'
"'My dear boy,' I said, 'the case is as clear as day-light. She loves Smith. No girl who admired Smith could be attracted by Smythe. As your present self you will never win her. In a few weeks' time, however, you will be Smith. Leave the matter over until then. Propose to her as Smith, and she will accept you. After marriage you can break Smythe gently to her.'
"'By Jove!' he exclaimed, startled out of his customary lethargy, 'I never thought of that. The truth is, when I am in my right senses, Smith and all his affairs seem like a dream to me. Any idea connected with him would never enter my mind.'
"He rose and held out his hand. 'I am so glad I came to see you,' he said; 'your suggestion has almost reconciled me to my miserable fate. Indeed, I quite look forward to a month of Smith, now.'
"'I'm so pleased,' I answered, shaking hands with him. 'Mind you come and tell me how you get on. Another man's love affairs are not usually absorbing, but there is an element of interest about yours that renders the case exceptional.'
"We parted, and I did not see him again for another month. Then, late one evening, the servant knocked at my door to say that a Mr. Smith wished to see me.
"'Smith, Smith,' I repeated; 'what Smith? didn't he give you a card?'
"'No, sir,' answered the girl; 'he doesn't look the sort that would have a card. He's not a gentleman, sir; but he says you'll know him.' She evidently regarded the statement as an aspersion upon myself.
"I was about to tell her to say I was out, when the recollection of Smythe's other self flashed into my mind, and I directed her to send him up.
"A minute passed, and then he entered. He was wearing a new suit of a louder pattern, if possible, than before. I think he must have designed it himself. He looked hot and greasy. He did not offer to shake hands, but sat down awkwardly on the extreme edge of a small chair, and gaped about the room as if he had never seen it before.
"He communicated his shyness to myself. I could not think what to say, and we sat for a while in painful silence.
"'Well,' I said, at last, plunging head-foremost into the matter, according to the method of shy people, 'and how's 'Liza?'
"'Oh, SHE'S all right,' he replied, keeping his eyes fixed on his hat.
"'Have you done it?' I continued.
"'Done wot?' he asked, looking up.
"'Married her.'
"'No,' he answered, returning to the contemplation of his hat.
"'Has she refused you then?' I said.
"'I ain't arst 'er,' he returned.
He seemed unwilling to explain matters of his own accord. I had to put the conversation into the form of a cross-examination.
"'Why not?' I asked; 'don't you think she cares for you any longer?'
He burst into a harsh laugh. 'There ain't much fear o' that,' he said; 'it's like 'aving an Alcock's porous plaster mashed on yer, blowed if it ain't. There's no gettin' rid of 'er. I wish she'd giv' somebody else a turn. I'm fair sick of 'er.'
"'But you were enthusiastic about her a month ago!' I exclaimed in astonishment.
"'Smythe may 'ave been,' he said; 'there ain't no accounting for that ninny, 'is 'ead's full of starch. Anyhow, I don't take 'er on while I'm myself. I'm too jolly fly.'
"'That sort o' gal's all right enough to lark with,' he continued; 'but yer don't want to marry 'em. They don't do yer no good. A man wants a wife as 'e can respect--some one as is a cut above 'imself, as will raise 'im up a peg or two--some one as 'e can look up to and worship. A