The Malefactor [9]
"I congratulate you upon your versatility. I am quite convinced! I shall advertise at once for a secretary!"
"Why advertise?" Aynesworth asked. "I am here!"
Wingrave shook his head.
"You would not suit me at all," he answered.
"Why not?" Aynesworth asked. "I forget whether I mentioned all my accomplishments. I am an Oxford man with a degree, and I can write tolerable English. I've a fair head for figures, and I don't require too large a salary."
"Exactly," Wingrave answered drily. "You are altogether too desirable? I should not require an Admirable Crichton for my purpose."
Aynesworth remained unruffled.
"All right," he said. "You know best, of course! Suppose you tell me what sort of a man would satisfy you!"
"Why should I?" Wingrave asked coldly.
"It would amuse me," Aynesworth answered, "and I've come a mile or so out of my way, and given up a whole morning to come and see you. Go on! It won't take long!"
Wingrave shrugged his shoulders.
"I will not remind you," he said, "that you came on your own initiative. I owe you the idea, however, so I will tell you the sort of person I shall look out for. In the first place, I do not require him to be a gentleman."
"I can be a shocking bounder at times," Aynesworth murmured.
"He must be more a sort of an upper servant," Wingrave continued. "I should require him to obey me implicitly, whatever I told him to do. You have a conscience, I presume?"
"Very little," Aynesworth answered. "I have been a journalist."
"You have the remnants of one, at all events," Wingrave said, "quite sufficient, no doubt, to interfere with your possible usefulness to me. I must have someone who is poor--too poor to question my will, or to dispute my orders, whatever they might be."
"I have never," Aynesworth declared, "possessed a superfluous half-crown in my life."
"You probably possess what is called a sense of honor," Wingrave continued. "You would certainly disapprove of some of my proceedings, and you would probably disobey my orders."
"Sense of honor!" Aynesworth repeated. "You have too flattering an opinion of me. I don't know what it is. I always cheat at cards if I get the chance."
Wingrave turned away.
"You are a fool," he said, "and you won't suit me."
"When can I come?" Aynesworth asked.
"You can stay now," Wingrave answered. "Your salary will be four hundred a year. You will live at my expense. The day you disobey an order of mine, you go! No notice, mind!"
"Agreed," Aynesworth answered. "What should I do first? Send you a tailor, I should think."
Wingrave nodded.
"I will give the afternoon to that sort of people," he said. "Here is a list of the tradesmen I used to deal with. Kindly avoid them."
Aynesworth glanced at the slip of paper, and nodded.
"All out-of-date now," he remarked. "I'll be back to lunch."
A DELICATE MISSION
Aynesworth was back in less than an hour. He carried under his arm a brown paper parcel, the strings of which he commenced at once to untie. Wingrave, who had been engrossed in the contents of his deed box, watched him with immovable face.
"The tailor will be here at two-thirty," he announced, "and the other fellows will follow on at half an hour's interval. The manicurist and the barber are coming at six o'clock."
Wingrave nodded.
"What have you there?" he asked, pointing to the parcel.
"Cigars and cigarettes, and jolly good ones, too," Aynesworth answered, opening a flat tin box, and smelling the contents appreciatively. "Try one of these! The finest Turkish tobacco grown!"
"I don't smoke," Wingrave answered.
"Oh! You've got out of it, but you must pick it up again," Aynesworth declared. "Best thing out for the nerves--sort of humanizes one, you know!"
"Humanizes one, does it?" Wingrave remarked softly. "Well, I'll try!"
He took a cigarette from the box, curtly inviting Aynesworth to do the same.
"What about lunch?" the latter asked. "Would you care to come round with me to the Cannibal Club? Rather a Bohemian set, but there are always some good fellows
"Why advertise?" Aynesworth asked. "I am here!"
Wingrave shook his head.
"You would not suit me at all," he answered.
"Why not?" Aynesworth asked. "I forget whether I mentioned all my accomplishments. I am an Oxford man with a degree, and I can write tolerable English. I've a fair head for figures, and I don't require too large a salary."
"Exactly," Wingrave answered drily. "You are altogether too desirable? I should not require an Admirable Crichton for my purpose."
Aynesworth remained unruffled.
"All right," he said. "You know best, of course! Suppose you tell me what sort of a man would satisfy you!"
"Why should I?" Wingrave asked coldly.
"It would amuse me," Aynesworth answered, "and I've come a mile or so out of my way, and given up a whole morning to come and see you. Go on! It won't take long!"
Wingrave shrugged his shoulders.
"I will not remind you," he said, "that you came on your own initiative. I owe you the idea, however, so I will tell you the sort of person I shall look out for. In the first place, I do not require him to be a gentleman."
"I can be a shocking bounder at times," Aynesworth murmured.
"He must be more a sort of an upper servant," Wingrave continued. "I should require him to obey me implicitly, whatever I told him to do. You have a conscience, I presume?"
"Very little," Aynesworth answered. "I have been a journalist."
"You have the remnants of one, at all events," Wingrave said, "quite sufficient, no doubt, to interfere with your possible usefulness to me. I must have someone who is poor--too poor to question my will, or to dispute my orders, whatever they might be."
"I have never," Aynesworth declared, "possessed a superfluous half-crown in my life."
"You probably possess what is called a sense of honor," Wingrave continued. "You would certainly disapprove of some of my proceedings, and you would probably disobey my orders."
"Sense of honor!" Aynesworth repeated. "You have too flattering an opinion of me. I don't know what it is. I always cheat at cards if I get the chance."
Wingrave turned away.
"You are a fool," he said, "and you won't suit me."
"When can I come?" Aynesworth asked.
"You can stay now," Wingrave answered. "Your salary will be four hundred a year. You will live at my expense. The day you disobey an order of mine, you go! No notice, mind!"
"Agreed," Aynesworth answered. "What should I do first? Send you a tailor, I should think."
Wingrave nodded.
"I will give the afternoon to that sort of people," he said. "Here is a list of the tradesmen I used to deal with. Kindly avoid them."
Aynesworth glanced at the slip of paper, and nodded.
"All out-of-date now," he remarked. "I'll be back to lunch."
A DELICATE MISSION
Aynesworth was back in less than an hour. He carried under his arm a brown paper parcel, the strings of which he commenced at once to untie. Wingrave, who had been engrossed in the contents of his deed box, watched him with immovable face.
"The tailor will be here at two-thirty," he announced, "and the other fellows will follow on at half an hour's interval. The manicurist and the barber are coming at six o'clock."
Wingrave nodded.
"What have you there?" he asked, pointing to the parcel.
"Cigars and cigarettes, and jolly good ones, too," Aynesworth answered, opening a flat tin box, and smelling the contents appreciatively. "Try one of these! The finest Turkish tobacco grown!"
"I don't smoke," Wingrave answered.
"Oh! You've got out of it, but you must pick it up again," Aynesworth declared. "Best thing out for the nerves--sort of humanizes one, you know!"
"Humanizes one, does it?" Wingrave remarked softly. "Well, I'll try!"
He took a cigarette from the box, curtly inviting Aynesworth to do the same.
"What about lunch?" the latter asked. "Would you care to come round with me to the Cannibal Club? Rather a Bohemian set, but there are always some good fellows