MR. SAUNDERS HAS A PLAN
Miss Pelham's affair with Thomas Saunders by this time had reached the
stage where observers feel a hesitancy about twitting the parties most
concerned. Even Britt, the bravest jester of them all, succumbed to the
prevailing wind when he saw how it blew. He got in the lee of popular
opinion and reefed the sails of the good ship _Tantalus_.
"Let true love take its course," he remarked to Bobby Browne one day,
after they had hearkened to Deppingham's furious complaint that he
couldn't find Saunders when he wanted him if he happened to be wanted
simultaneously by Miss Pelham. "Miss Pelham is a fine girl. Your wife
likes her and looks after her. She's a clever girl, much cleverer than
Saunders would be if he were a girl. She's found out that he earns a
thousand a year and that his mother is a very old woman. That shows
foresight. She says she's just crazy about London, although she doesn't
know where Hammersmith is. That shows discretion. She's anxious to see
the boats at Putney and talks like an encyclopaedia about Kew Gardens.
That shows diplomacy. You see, Saunders lives in Hammersmith, not far
from the bridge, all alone with his mother, who owns the house and
garden. It's all very appealing to Miss Pelham, who has got devilish
tired of seeing the universe from a nineteenth story in Broadway. I
heard her tell Saunders that she keeps a couple of geranium pots on the
window sill near which she sits all day. She says she's keen about
garden flowers. Looks serious to me."
"She's a very nice girl," agreed Bobby Browne.
"A very saucy one," added Deppingham, who had come a severe cropper in
his single attempt to interest her in a mild flirtation.
"She's off with Saunders now," went on Britt. "That's why you can't find
him, my lord. If you really want him, however, I think you can reach him
by strolling through the lower end of the park and shouting. For
heaven's sake, don't fail to shout."
"I _do_ want him, confound him. I want to ask him how many days there
are left before our time is up on the island. Demmed annoying, that I
can't have legal advice when I--"
"How many days have you been here?"
"How the devil should I know? That's what we've got Saunders here for.
He's supposed to tell us when to go home, and all that sort of thing,
you know."
"It isn't going to be so bad, now that the Princess has come to cheer us
up a bit," put in Bobby Browne. "Life has a new aspect."
"I say, Browne," burst out Deppingham, irrelevantly, his eyeglass
clenched in the tight grasp of a perplexed frown, "would you mind
telling me that story about the bishop and the door bell again?"
Britt laughed hoarsely, his chubby figure shivering with emotion.
"You've heard that story ten times, to my certain knowledge,
Deppingham."
His lordship glared at him. "See here, Britt, you'll oblige me by--"
"Very well," interrupted Britt readily. "I forget once in a while."
"The trouble with you Americans is this," growled Deppingham, turning to
Browne and speaking as if Britt was not in existence: "you have no
dividing line. 'Gad, you wouldn't catch Saunders sticking his nose in
where he wasn't wanted. He's--"
"I was under the impression that you wanted him," interrupted Britt,
most good-naturedly, his stubby legs far apart, his hands in his
pockets.
"I say, Browne, would you mind coming into my room? I want to hear that
story, but I'm hanged if I'll listen to it out here."
The oft-told story of the bishop and the bell, of course, has no bearing
upon the affairs of Miss Pelham and Thomas Saunders. And, for that
matter, the small affairs of that worthy couple have little or no
bearing upon the chief issue involved in this tale. Nobody cares a rap
whether Saunders, middle-aged and unheroic bachelor, with his precise
little "burnsides," won the heart of the pert Miss Pelham, precise in
character if not always so in type. It is of no serious consequence that
she kept him from calling her Minnie until the psychological moment, and
it really doesn't matter that Thomas was days in advancing to the
moment. It is only necessary to break in upon them occasionally for the
purpose of securing legal advice, or the equally unromantic desire to
have a bit of typewriting done. We are not alone in this heartless and
uncharitable obtrusion. Deppingham, phlegmatic soul, was forever
disturbing Saunders with calls to duty, although Saunders was brutish
enough, in his British way, to maintain (in confidence, of course) that
he was in the employ of Lady Deppingham, or no one at all. Nevertheless,
he always lived under the shadow of duty. At any moment, his lordship
was liable to send for him to ask the time of day--or some equally
important question. And this brings us to the hour when Saunders
unfolded his startling solution to the problem that confronted them all.
First, he confided in Britt, soberly, sagely and in perfect good faith.
Britt was bowled over. He stared at Saunders and gasped. Nearly two
minutes elapsed before he could find words to reply; which proves
conclusively that it must have been something of a shock to him. When at
last he did express himself, however, there was nothing that could have
been left unsaid--absolutely nothing. He went so far as to call Saunders
a doddering fool and a great many other things that Saunders had not in
the least expected.
The Englishman was stubborn. They had it back and forth, from legal and
other points of view, and finally Britt gave in to his colleague,
reserving the right to laugh when it was all over. Saunders, with a
determination that surprised even himself, called for a conference of
all parties in Wyckholme's study, at four o'clock.
It was nearly six before Lady Deppingham arrived, although she had but
forty steps to traverse. Mr. and Mrs. Browne were there fully half an
hour earlier. Deppingham appeared at four and then went away. He was
discovered asleep in the hanging garden, however, and at once joined the
others. Miss Pelham was present with her note book. The Princess was
invited by Lady Deppingham, who held no secrets from her, but the royal
young lady preferred to go out walking with her dogs. Pong, the red
cocker, attended the session and twice snarled at Mr. Saunders, for no
other reason than that it is a dog's prerogative to snarl when and at
whom he chooses.
"Now, what's it all about, Saunders?" demanded Deppingham, with a wide
yawn. Saunders looked hurt.
"It is high time we were discussing some way out of our difficulties,"
he said. "Under ordinary circumstances, my lady, I should not have
called into joint consultation those whom I may be pardoned for
designating as our hereditary foes. Especially Mr. Browne. But, as my
plan to overcome the obstacle which has always stood in our way requires
the co-operation of Mr. Browne, I felt safe in asking him to be present.
Mrs. Browne's conjugal interest is also worthy of consideration." Mrs.
Browne sniffed perceptibly and stared at the speaker. "But five weeks
remain before our stay is over. We all know, by this time, that there is
little or no likelihood of the estate being closed on schedule time. I
think it is clear, from the advices we have, that the estate will be
tied up in the courts for some time to come, possibly a year or two.
From authoritative sources, we learn that the will is to be broken. The
apparent impossibility of marriage between Lady Deppingham and Mr.
Browne naturally throws our joint cause into jeopardy. There would be no
controversy, of course, if the terms of the will could be carried out in
that respect. The islanders understand our position and seem secure in
their rights. They imagine that they have us beaten on the face of
things. Consequently they are jolly well upset by the news that we are
to contest the will in the home courts. They are, from what I hear and
observe, pretty thoroughly angered. Now, the thing for us to do is to
get married."
He came to this conclusion with startling abruptness. Four of his
hearers stared at him in blank amazement.
"Get married?" murmured first one, then another.
"Are you crazy?" demanded Browne. Britt was grinning broadly.
"Certainly not!" snapped Saunders.
"Oh, by Jove!" exclaimed Deppingham, relieved. "I see. You mean _you_
contemplate getting married. I congratulate you. You gave me quite a
shock, Saund--"
"I don't mean anything of the sort, my lord," said Saunders getting very
red in the face. Miss Pelham looked up from her note book quickly. He
winked at her, and her ladyship saw him do it. "I mean that it is high
time that Lady Deppingham and Mr. Browne were getting married. We
haven't much time to spare. It--"
"Good Lord!" gasped Bobby Browne. "You _are_ crazy, after all."
"Open the window and give some air," said Britt coolly.
"See here, Saunders, what the devil is the matter with you?" roared
Deppingham.
"My lord, I am here to act as your legal adviser," said Saunders with
dignity. "May I be permitted to proceed?"
"Rather queer legal advice, 'pon my word."
"Please let him explain," put in Mrs. Browne, whose sense of humour was
strongly attracted by this time. "If there is anything more to be
learned concerning matrimony, I'd like to know it."
"Yes, Mr. Saunders, you may proceed," said Lady Agnes, passing a hand
over her bewildered eyes.
"Thank you, my lady. Well, here it is in a nutshell: I have not spoken
of it before, but you and Mr. Browne can very easily comply with the
provisions of the will. You can be married at any time. Now, I--"
"And where do I come in?" demanded Deppingham, sarcastically.
"Yes, and I?" added Mrs. Browne. "You forget us, Mr. Saunders."
"I include Mrs. Browne," amended Deppingham. "Are we to be assassinated?
By Jove, clever idea of yours, Saunders. Simplifies matters
tremendously."
"I hear no objection from the heirs," remarked Saunders, meaningly.
Whereupon Lady Agnes and Bobby came out of their stupor and protested
vigorously.
"Miss Pelham," said Britt, breaking in sharply, "I trust you are getting
all of this down. I wish to warn you, ladies and gentlemen, that _I_
expect to overthrow the will on the ground that there is insanity on
both sides. You'll oblige me by uttering just what you feel."
"Why, this is perfectly ridiculous," cried Lady Agnes. "Our souls are
not our own."
"Your minds are the only things I am interested in," said Britt calmly.
"My plan is very simple--" began Saunders helplessly.
"Demmed simple," growled Deppingham.
"We are living on an island where polygamy is practised and tolerated.
Why can't we take advantage of the custom and beat the natives at their
own game? That's the ticket!"
Of course, this proposition, simple as it sounded, brought forth a storm
of laughter and expostulation, but Saunders held his ground. He listened
to a dozen jeering remarks in patient dignity, and then got the floor
once more.
"You have only to embrace Mohammedanism or Paganism, or whatever it is,
temporarily. Just long enough to get married and comply with the terms.
Then, I daresay, you could resume your Christian doctrine once more,
after a few weeks, I'd say, and the case is won."
"I pay Lady Deppingham the compliment by saying that it would be most
difficult for me to become a Christian again," said Browne smoothly,
bowing to the flushed Englishwoman.
"How very sweet of you," she said, with a grimace which made Drusilla
shiver with annoyance.
"You don't need to live together, of course," floundered Saunders,
getting rather beyond his depth.
"Well, that's a concession on your part," said Mrs. Browne, a flash in
her eye.
"I never heard of such an asinine proposition," sputtered Deppingham.
Saunders went completely under at that.
"On the other hand," he hastened to remark, "I'm sure it would be quite
legal if you did live to----"
"Stop him, for heaven's sake," screamed Lady Agnes, bursting into
uncontrollable laughter.
"Stop him? Why?" demanded her husband, suddenly seeing what he regarded
as a rare joke. "Let's hear him out. By Jove, there's more to it than I
thought. Go on, Saunders."
"Of course, if you are going to be nasty about it--" began Saunders in a
huff.
"I can't see anything nasty about it," said Browne. "I'll admit that our
wife and our husband may decide to be stubborn and unreasonable, but it
sounds rather attractive to me."
"Robert!" from his wife.
"He's only joking, Mrs. Browne," explained Deppingham magnanimously.
"Now, let me understand you, Saunders. You say they can be married
according to the customs--which, I take it, are the laws--of the
islanders. Wouldn't they be remanded for bigamy sooner or later?"
"They don't bother the Mormons, do they, Mr. Browne?" asked Saunders
triumphantly. "Well, who is going to object among us?"
"I am!" exclaimed Deppingham. "Your plan provides Browne with two
charming wives and gives me but one. There's nothing to compel Mrs.
Browne to marry me."
"But, my lord," said Saunders, "doesn't the plan give Lady Deppingham
two husbands? It's quite a fair division."
"It would make Lord Deppingham my husband-in-law, I imagine," said
Drusilla quaintly. "I've always had a horror of husbands-in-law."
"And you would be my wife-in-law," supplemented Lady Agnes. "How
interesting!"
"Saunders," said Deppingham soberly, "I must oppose your plan. It's
quite unfair to two innocent and uninvolved parties. What have we done
that we should be exempt from polygamy?"
"You are not exempt," exclaimed the harassed solicitor. "You are merely
not _obliged_ to, that's all. You can do as you choose about it, I'm
sure. I'm sorry my plan causes so much levity. It is meant for the good
of our cause. The will doesn't say how many wives Mr. Browne shall have.
It simply says that Agnes Ruthven shall be his wife. He isn't
restricted, you know. He can be a polygamist if he likes. I ask Mr.
Britt if there is anything in the document which specifically says he
shall _not_ have more than one wife. Polygamy is quite legal in the
United States, and he is an American citizen. I read about a Mormon chap
marrying a whole Sunday-school class not long ago."
"You're right," said Britt. "The will doesn't specify. But, my dear
Saunders, you are overlooking your own client in this plan."
"I don't quite understand, Mr. Britt."
"As I understand the laws on this island--the church laws at least--a
man can have as many wives as he likes. Well, that's all very well for
Mr. Browne. But isn't it also a fact that a woman can have no more than
one husband? Lady Deppingham has one husband. She can't take another
without first getting rid of this one."
"And, I say, Saunders," added Deppingham, "the native way of disposing
of husbands is rather trying, I've heard. Six or seven jabs with a long
knife is the most approved way, isn't it, Britt?"
"Imagine Lady Deppingham going to the altar all covered with gore!" said
Britt.
"Saunders," said Deppingham, arising and lighting a fresh cigarette,
"you have gone clean daft. You're loony with love. You've got marriage
on the brain. I'd advise you to take some one for it,"
"Do you mean that for me. Lord Deppingham?" demanded Miss Pelham
sharply. She glared at him and then slammed her note book on the table.
"You can josh Mr. Saunders, but you can't josh me. I'm sick of this job.
Get somebody else to do your work after this. I'm through."
"Oh!" exclaimed every one in a panic. It took nearly ten minutes to
pacify the ruffled stenographer. She finally resumed her place at the
table, but her chin was in the air and she turned the pages with a
vehemence that left nothing to the imagination.
"I can arrange everything, my lady, so that the ceremony will be
regular," pleaded the unhappy Saunders. "You have only to go through the
form--"
"But what kind of a form does she follow in stabbing me to mincemeat?
That's the main law point," said Deppingham. "You seem to forget that I
am still alive."
"Perhaps we could arrange for a divorce all round," cried Saunders,
suddenly inspired.
"On what grounds?" laughed Browne.
"Give me time," said the lawyer.
"It's barely possible that there is no divorce law in Japat," remarked
Britt, keenly enjoying his confrère's misery.
"Are you quite sure?"
"Reasonably. If there was such a law, I'll bet my head two-thirds of the
men in Aratat would be getting rid of wives before night."
Britt, after this remark, sat very still and thoughtful. He was turning
over the divorce idea in his mind. He had ridiculed the polygamy scheme,
but the divorce proposition might be managed.
"I'm tired," said Lady Deppingham suddenly. She yawned and stretched her
arms. "It's been very entertaining, Saunders, but, really, I think we'd
better dress for dinner. Come, Mr. Browne, shall we look for the
Princess?"
"With pleasure, if you'll promise to spare Deppingham's life."
"On condition that you will spare Deppingham's wife," very prettily and
airily. Mrs. Browne laughed with amazing good grace, but there was a new
expression in her eyes.
"Your ladyship," called Saunders desperately, "do you approve of my
plan? It's only a subterfuge--"
"Heartily!" she exclaimed, with one of her rarest laughs. "The only
objection that I can see to it is that it leaves out my husband and Mrs.
Browne. They are very nice people, Saunders, and you should be more
considerate of them. Come, Mr. Browne." She took the American's arm and
gaily danced from the room. Lord Deppingham's eyes glowed with pride in
his charming wife as he followed with the heartsick Drusilla. Britt
sauntered slowly out and down the stairway, glancing back but once at
the undone Saunders.
"I would have won them over if Britt had not interfered," almost wailed
little Mr. Saunders, his eyes glazed with mortification.
"I'm getting to hate that man," said Miss Pelham loyally. "And the
others! They give me a pain! Don't mind them, Tommy, dear."
Lady Deppingham and Browne came upon the Princess quite unexpectedly.
She was in the upper gallery, leaning against the stone rail and gazing
steadily through the field glasses in the direction of the bungalow.
They held back and watched her, unseen. The soft light of early evening
fell upon her figure as she stood erect, lithe and sinuous in the open
space between the ivy-clad posts; her face and hands were soft tinted by
the glow from the reflecting east, her hair was like a bronze relief
against the dark green of the mountain. She was dressed in white--a
modish gown of rich Irish lace. One instantly likened this rare young
creature to a rare old painting.
Genevra smiled securely in her supposed aloofness from the world. Then,
suddenly moved by a strange impulse, she gently waved her handkerchief,
as if in greeting to some one far off in the gloaming. The action was a
mischievous one, no doubt, and it had its consequences--rather sudden
and startling, if the observers were to judge by her subsequent
movements. She lowered the glass instantly; there was a quick catch in
her breath--as if a laugh had been checked; confusion swept over her,
and she drew back into the shadows as a guilty child might have done.
They distinctly heard her murmur as she crossed the flags and
disappeared through the French window, without seeing them:
"Oh, dear, what a crazy thing to do!"
Genevra, peering through the glasses, had discovered the figure of Chase
on the bungalow porch. She was amused to find that he, from his distant
post, was also regarding the château through a pair of glasses. A spirit
of adventure, risk, mischief, as uncontrolled as breath itself, impelled
her to flaunt her handkerchief. That treacherous spirit deserted her
most shamelessly when her startled eyes saw that he was waving a
response. She laid awake for a long time that night wondering what he
would think of her for that wretched bit of frivolity. Then at last a
new thought came to her relief, but it did not give her the peace of
mind that she desired.
He may have mistaken her for Lady Deppingham.