ETHEL DERING has not recognised me yet. Naturally she would not expect
to find me being photographed on the beach with such a crew as this--but
she _will_ in another instant, unless,--ah, LOUISE'S sunshade! my
presence of mind never _quite_ deserts me. There is a slit in the
silk--through which I can see ETHEL. As soon as she discovers what the
excitement is all about, she turns away.... Thank goodness, she is gone!
I have saved the situation--but ruined the group ... they are all
annoyed with me. I had really no idea LOUISE looked so plain when out of
temper!
As we go back, ALF wants to know whether I noticed that "clipping girl."
He means ETHEL. LOUISE says, he "ought to know better than to ask me
such things, considering my situation." Agree with LOUISE.
_Evening_. I am staying at home; _nominally_, to work at the Drama
(still in very elementary stage) _really_, to think out the situation.
Remember now the DERINGS have a yacht; they _may_ only have put in here
for a day or two--if not, can I avoid being seen by her sooner or later?
The mere idea of meeting _her_ when I am with ALF or PONKING, and my
Blazer acquaintances, makes me ill. (Not that I need distress myself,
for she would probably cut me!) Can't think in Mrs. SURGE'S little front
parlour. I must get out, into the air! Let me see, LOUISE and her Aunt
(and no doubt PONKING and ALF) will be at the Music Hall this evening,
as there is a "benefit" with the usual "galaxy of talent." If I keep
away from the sands (where I might see ETHEL), I shall be safe enough.
[Illustration: "Why, he's a man of whacks!" _Shakspeare_.]
Turn into Public Gardens; nobody here just now, except a couple in
front, who seem to have quarrelled--at least the lady's voice sounds
displeased. Too dark to see, but as I come nearer--is it only my nervous
fancy that--? No, I can't be mistaken, that _is_ ETHEL speaking now!
"Why will you persist in speaking to me?" she is saying, "I don't know
you--have the goodness to go away at once." Some impudent scoundrel is
annoying her! Didn't know anything could make me so angry. I don't stop
to think--before I know where I am, I have knocked the fellow down ...
he can't be more surprised than _I_ am! It is all very well--but what is
to become of me when he _gets up again?_ He is sure to make a row, and I
can't go _on_ knocking him down! Must get ETHEL away first, should not
like to be pounded into shapelessness before her eyes. "Miss DERING," I
say, "you--you had better go on--leave him to me," (it will probably be
the other way, though!) "Mr. CONEY!" she cries. "Oh, I am so glad!--but
don't hurt him any more--_please_." He is getting up, as well as I can
make out in the darkness, I am not _likely_ to hurt him any more ... I
wish he would begin, this suspense is very trying. He _has_ begun--to
weep bitterly! Never was so surprised in my life; he is too much upset
even to swear, simply sits in the gutter boohooing. If he knew how
grateful I am to him! However, I tell him sternly to "think himself
lucky it is no worse," and leave him to recover.
Must see ETHEL safe home after this. She and her father _did_ come in
the yacht--they are at the Royal Hotel, and she missed her way and her
maid somehow, trying to find a Circulating Library. She really seems
pleased to meet me. It is not an original remark--but _what_ a delight
it is to listen to the clear fresh tones of a well-bred girl--not that
ETHEL's voice is anything to me _now!_ She "can't imagine what I find to
do in Starmouth,"--then she did _not_ recognise me this afternoon, which
is some comfort! I should like to tell her all, but it would be rather
uncalled-for just now, perhaps. We talk on general matters, as we used
to do. Singular how one can throw off one's troubles for the time--I am
actually _gay!_ I can make _her_ laugh, and what a pretty rippling laugh
she has! We have reached the Hotel--_already!_
[Illustration: "So many guests invite as here are writ."--_Shakspeare_.]
Now I am here, it would be rude not to go in and see old DERING. I do.
He is most cordial. Am I alone down here? Critical, this. After all, I
_am_ alone--in my lodgings. "Then I must come to luncheon on board the
_Amaryllis_ to-morrow." ETHEL (I _must_ get into the way of thinking of
her as "Miss DERING") looks as if she expects me to accept. I had better
go, and find an opportunity of telling her about LOUISE--who knows--they
might become bosom friends. No, hang it, _that's_ out of the question!
The DERINGS' private room opens on to the Esplanade; old DERING comes to
the French windows, and calls out after me, "Don't forget. Lunch at two.
On board the _Amaryllis_--find her at the quay." "Thanks very much--I
_won't_ forget. Good-night!" "Good-night!" Someone is waiting for me
under a lamp. It is ALF, but I did not know him at first. "Why, where on
earth!"--I begin. He regards me reproachfully with his one efficient
eye, and I observe his nose is much swollen. Good heavens, I see it
all--I have knocked down my _future brother-in-law!_ Well, it serves him
right.
He explains, sulkily; he meant no harm; never thought anyone would be
offended by being spoken to civil; _he_ never met girls like that before
(which is likely enough); and to think I should have treated him that
savage and brutal--it was _that_ upset him. Tell him I am sorry, but I
can't help it now. "Yes you can," he says, hoarsely. "You know this
girl--this Miss DERIN'," (he has followed us, it appears, and caught her
name)--"you don't ought to play dog in the manger _now_--I want you to
introduce me in a reg'lar way. I tell yer I'm down-right smitten."
Introduce _him_--to ETHEL! Never, not if I won the V.C. for it! "Then
you _look out!_"
He has gone off growling--the cub! He will tell LOUISE. On second
thoughts, his own share in the business may prevent that--but it is
unfortunate.
_Next Day_.--Have got leave of absence (without mentioning reason). I
believe I pleaded the Drama, as usual, and I _have_ jotted down a line
or two. Am dressing for luncheon--somehow I take longer than usual.
Ready at last; the coast is clear, I am a trifle early, but I can stroll
gently down to the quay.... Turn a corner, and come upon PONKING, with
LOUISE. Fancy both look rather confused, but they are delighted to see
me. "Was I going any where in particular?" "No--nowhere in particular."
"Then I'd better come along with them--they have dined early, and are
doing the lions." LOUISE makes such a point of it that I can't
refuse--must watch my chance, and slip off when I can.
_Later_.--We have done an ancient gaol, the church, and a fishermen's
almshouse--and I have not seen my chance _yet_. PONKING determined to
see all he can for his money. LOUISE, more demonstrative than she has
been of late, clings to my arm. It is past two, but we are working our
way, slowly, towards the quay. PONKING suggests visit to Fisherring
Establishment. Now is my chance; say I won't go in--don't like
herrings--will wait outside. To my surprise, they actually meet me
half-way! "If you want to get back to your play-writing, old chap," says
PONKING (really not a bad fellow, PONKING!) "don't you mind _us_--we'll
take care of one another!" Just as deliverance is at hand, that infernal
ALF comes up from the quay, with an eye that is positively _iridescent!_
"Oh, look at his poor eye!" cries LOUISE. I look--and I see that he
means "_being nasty_." He addresses me: "Why ain't you on board your
swell yacht, taking lunch along with that girl, eh?" he inquires.
Exclamations from LOUISE: "Girl? yacht? who? what?" and then--it all
comes out!
[Illustration: Thrown over at a Watering-place.]
Painful scene; fortunate there are so few looking on. LOUISE renounces
me for ever opposite the Town-hall. "She knew I was a muff, but she had
thought I was too much the gentleman to act deceitful!" PONKING is of
opinion I "haven't a gentlemanly action in me." So is ALF, who adds that
he "always felt somehow he could never make a pal of me." There is balm
in _that!_
Thank goodness, it is over! I am _free_--free to think of ETHEL as much
as I like! I see now what a wretched infatuation all this has been. I
can tell her about it some day--if I think it necessary. I am not sure I
_shall_ think it necessary--at all events, just yet.
I am a little late, but I can apologise for that. Odd--but I can't find
the _Amaryllis_ anywhere! Ask. A seaman on a post says "There _was_ a
yacht he see being towed out 'bout 'arf an hour back--he didn't take no
partickler notice of her name." No doubt I mistook the moorings--better
ask at hotel, perhaps. I do. Waiter says if I am the gentleman by name
of CONEY, there are two notes for me in Coffee-Room.
Open first--from Mr. DERING.
"Regrets; unforeseen circumstances--compelled to sail at once, and give
up pleasure, &c."
Second--from ETHEL; there is hope still--or would she write?
[Illustration: A love-lorn Romeo ready for his Beer.]
"Dear Mr. CONEY,--So sorry to go away without seeing you. You might have
told me of your engagement yourself, I think--I should have been so
interested. Your brother-in-law and his aunt thought it necessary to
call and inform us. We are delighted that you are having a pleasanter
time here than you gave us to understand last night. With best wishes
for all possible happiness," &c.
So _that_ was ALF'S revenge--it was a good one! After that, I shake off
the sand of Starmouth--for ever!
* * * * *
[Illustration: A GOOD EXAMPLE.
_John Bull (loq)._ "VERY KIND OF HER MAJESTY TO LET ME SEE HER JUBILEE
GIFTS; BUT I WONDER WHEN HER ADVISERS WILL ALLOW ME TO SEE MY OWN!"]
* * * * *