Novel Notes [70]
man's wife orter be to 'im a gawddess--a hangel, a--'
"'You appear to have met the lady,' I remarked, interrupting him.
"He blushed scarlet, and became suddenly absorbed in the pattern of the carpet. But the next moment he looked up again, and his face seemed literally transformed.
"'Oh! Mr. MacShaughnassy,' he burst out, with a ring of genuine manliness in his voice, 'you don't know 'ow good, 'ow beautiful she is. I ain't fit to breathe 'er name in my thoughts. An' she's so clever. I met 'er at that Toynbee 'All. There was a party of toffs there all together. You would 'ave enjoyed it, Mr. MacShaughnassy, if you could 'ave 'eard 'er; she was makin' fun of the pictures and the people round about to 'er pa--such wit, such learnin', such 'aughtiness. I follered them out and opened the carriage door for 'er, and she just drew 'er skirt aside and looked at me as if I was the dirt in the road. I wish I was, for then perhaps one day I'd kiss 'er feet.'
"His emotion was so genuine that I did not feel inclined to laugh at him. 'Did you find out who she was?' I asked.
"'Yes,' he answered; 'I 'eard the old gentleman say "'Ome" to the coachman, and I ran after the carriage all the way to 'Arley Street. Trevior's 'er name, Hedith Trevior.'
"'Miss Trevior!' I cried, 'a tall, dark girl, with untidy hair and rather weak eyes?'
"'Tall and dark,' he replied 'with 'air that seems tryin' to reach 'er lips to kiss 'em, and heyes, light blue, like a Cambridge necktie. A 'undred and seventy-three was the number.'
"'That's right,' I said; 'my dear Smith, this is becoming complicated. You've met the lady and talked to her for half an hour--as Smythe, don't you remember?'
"'No,' he said, after cogitating for a minute, 'carn't say I do; I never can remember much about Smythe. He allers seems to me like a bad dream.'
"'Well, you met her,' I said; 'I'm positive. I introduced you to her myself, and she confided to me afterwards that she thought you a most charming man.'
"'No--did she?' he remarked, evidently softening in his feelings towards Smythe; 'and did I like 'ER?'
"'Well, to tell the truth,' I answered, 'I don't think you did. You looked intensely bored.'
"'The Juggins,' I heard him mutter to himself, and then he said aloud: 'D'yer think I shall get a chance o' seein' 'er agen, when I'm--when I'm Smythe?'
"'Of course,' I said, 'I'll take you round myself. By the bye,' I added, jumping up and looking on the mantelpiece, 'I've got a card for a Cinderella at their place--something to do with a birthday. Will you be Smythe on November the twentieth?'
"'Ye--as,' he replied; 'oh, yas--bound to be by then.'
"'Very well, then,' I said, 'I'll call round for you at the Albany, and we'll go together.'
"He rose and stood smoothing his hat with his sleeve. 'Fust time I've ever looked for'ard to bein' that hanimated corpse, Smythe,' he said slowly. 'Blowed if I don't try to 'urry it up--'pon my sivey I will.'
"'He'll be no good to you till the twentieth,' I reminded him. 'And,' I added, as I stood up to ring the bell, 'you're sure it's a genuine case this time. You won't be going back to 'Liza?'
"'Oh, don't talk 'bout 'Liza in the same breath with Hedith,' he replied, 'it sounds like sacrilege.'
"He stood hesitating with the handle of the door in his hand. At last, opening it and looking very hard at his hat, he said, 'I'm goin' to 'Arley Street now. I walk up and down outside the 'ouse every evening, and sometimes, when there ain't no one lookin', I get a chance to kiss the doorstep.'
"He disappeared, and I returned to my chair.
"On November twentieth, I called for him according to promise. I found him on the point of starting for the club: he had forgotten all about our appointment. I reminded him of it, and he with difficulty recalled it, and consented, without any enthusiasm, to accompany me. By a few artful hints to her mother (including a casual mention of his income), I manoeuvred matters so that he had Edith almost entirely to himself for the whole evening.
"'You appear to have met the lady,' I remarked, interrupting him.
"He blushed scarlet, and became suddenly absorbed in the pattern of the carpet. But the next moment he looked up again, and his face seemed literally transformed.
"'Oh! Mr. MacShaughnassy,' he burst out, with a ring of genuine manliness in his voice, 'you don't know 'ow good, 'ow beautiful she is. I ain't fit to breathe 'er name in my thoughts. An' she's so clever. I met 'er at that Toynbee 'All. There was a party of toffs there all together. You would 'ave enjoyed it, Mr. MacShaughnassy, if you could 'ave 'eard 'er; she was makin' fun of the pictures and the people round about to 'er pa--such wit, such learnin', such 'aughtiness. I follered them out and opened the carriage door for 'er, and she just drew 'er skirt aside and looked at me as if I was the dirt in the road. I wish I was, for then perhaps one day I'd kiss 'er feet.'
"His emotion was so genuine that I did not feel inclined to laugh at him. 'Did you find out who she was?' I asked.
"'Yes,' he answered; 'I 'eard the old gentleman say "'Ome" to the coachman, and I ran after the carriage all the way to 'Arley Street. Trevior's 'er name, Hedith Trevior.'
"'Miss Trevior!' I cried, 'a tall, dark girl, with untidy hair and rather weak eyes?'
"'Tall and dark,' he replied 'with 'air that seems tryin' to reach 'er lips to kiss 'em, and heyes, light blue, like a Cambridge necktie. A 'undred and seventy-three was the number.'
"'That's right,' I said; 'my dear Smith, this is becoming complicated. You've met the lady and talked to her for half an hour--as Smythe, don't you remember?'
"'No,' he said, after cogitating for a minute, 'carn't say I do; I never can remember much about Smythe. He allers seems to me like a bad dream.'
"'Well, you met her,' I said; 'I'm positive. I introduced you to her myself, and she confided to me afterwards that she thought you a most charming man.'
"'No--did she?' he remarked, evidently softening in his feelings towards Smythe; 'and did I like 'ER?'
"'Well, to tell the truth,' I answered, 'I don't think you did. You looked intensely bored.'
"'The Juggins,' I heard him mutter to himself, and then he said aloud: 'D'yer think I shall get a chance o' seein' 'er agen, when I'm--when I'm Smythe?'
"'Of course,' I said, 'I'll take you round myself. By the bye,' I added, jumping up and looking on the mantelpiece, 'I've got a card for a Cinderella at their place--something to do with a birthday. Will you be Smythe on November the twentieth?'
"'Ye--as,' he replied; 'oh, yas--bound to be by then.'
"'Very well, then,' I said, 'I'll call round for you at the Albany, and we'll go together.'
"He rose and stood smoothing his hat with his sleeve. 'Fust time I've ever looked for'ard to bein' that hanimated corpse, Smythe,' he said slowly. 'Blowed if I don't try to 'urry it up--'pon my sivey I will.'
"'He'll be no good to you till the twentieth,' I reminded him. 'And,' I added, as I stood up to ring the bell, 'you're sure it's a genuine case this time. You won't be going back to 'Liza?'
"'Oh, don't talk 'bout 'Liza in the same breath with Hedith,' he replied, 'it sounds like sacrilege.'
"He stood hesitating with the handle of the door in his hand. At last, opening it and looking very hard at his hat, he said, 'I'm goin' to 'Arley Street now. I walk up and down outside the 'ouse every evening, and sometimes, when there ain't no one lookin', I get a chance to kiss the doorstep.'
"He disappeared, and I returned to my chair.
"On November twentieth, I called for him according to promise. I found him on the point of starting for the club: he had forgotten all about our appointment. I reminded him of it, and he with difficulty recalled it, and consented, without any enthusiasm, to accompany me. By a few artful hints to her mother (including a casual mention of his income), I manoeuvred matters so that he had Edith almost entirely to himself for the whole evening.