John's first impulse had been to pour out in Miss Hamilton's ears the
tale of his wrongs, and afterward, when he had sufficiently impressed
her with the danger of the position in which the world was trying to
place them, to ask her to marry him as the only way to escape from it.
On second thoughts, he decided that she might be offended by the
suggestion of having been compromised by him and that she might resent
the notion of their marriage's being no more than a sop to public
opinion. He therefore abandoned the idea of enlarging upon the scandal
their association had apparently created and proposed to substitute the
trite but always popular scene of the prosperous middle-aged man's
renunciation of love and happiness in favor of a young and penurious
rival. He recalled how many last acts in how many sentimental comedies
had owed their success to this situation, which never failed with an
audience. But then the average audience was middle-aged. Thinking of the
many audiences on which from private boxes he had looked down, John was
sure that bald heads always predominated in the auditorium; and
naturally those bald heads had been only too ready to nod approval of a
heroine who rejected the dashing jeune premier to fling herself into the
arms of the elderly actor-manager. It was impossible to think of any
infirmity severe enough to thwart an actor-manager. Yet a play was
make-believe: in real life events would probably turn out quite
differently. It would be very depressing, if he offered to make Doris
and Hugh happy together by settling upon them a handsome income, to find
Doris jumping at the prospect. Perhaps it would be more prudent not to
suggest any possibility of a marriage between them. It might even be
more prudent not to mention the subject of marriage at all. John looked
at his secretary with what surely must have been a very eloquent glance
indeed, because she dropped her pencil, blushed, and took his hand.
"How much simpler life is than art," John murmured. He would never have
dared to allow one of his heroes in a moment of supreme emotion like
this to crane his neck across a wide table in order to kiss the heroine.
Any audience would have laughed at such an awkward gesture; yet, though
he only managed to reach her lips with half an inch to spare, the kiss
was not at all funny somehow. No, it ranked with Paolo's or Anthony's or
any other famous lover's kiss.
"And now of course I can't be your secretary any longer," she sighed.
"Why? Do you disapprove of wives' helping their husbands?"
"I don't think you really want to get married, do you?"
"My dear, I'm absolutely dying to get married."
"Truly?"
"Doris, look at me."
And surely she looked at him with more admiration than he had ever
looked at himself in a glass.
"What a time I shall have with mother," she gasped with the gurgling
triumphant laugh of a child who has unexpectedly found the way to open
the store-cupboard.
"Oh, no, you won't," John prophesied, confidently. "I'm not going to
have such an excellent last scene spoilt by unnecessary talk. We'll get
married first and tell everybody afterwards. I've lately discovered what
an amazing capacity ordinary human nature has for invention. It really
frightens me for the future of novelists, who I cannot believe will be
wanted much longer. Oh no, Doris, I'm not going to run the risk of
hearing any preliminary gossip about our marriage. Neither your mother
nor my relations nor the general public are going to have any share in
it before or after. In fact to be brief I propose to elope.
Notwithstanding my romantic plays I have spent a private life of utter
dullness. This is my last opportunity to do anything unusual. Please, my
dearest girl, let me experience the joys of an actual elopement before
I relapse into eternal humdrummery."
"A horrid description of marriage!" she protested.
"Comparative humdrummery, I should have said, comparative, that is to
say, with the excesses attributed to me by rumor. I've often wanted to
write a play about Tiberius, and I feel well equipped to do so now. But
I'm serious about the elopement. I really do want to avoid my relations'
tongues."
"I believe you're afraid of them."
"I am. I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm in terror of them," he said.
"But where are we going to elope to?"
John picked up the _Times_.
"If only the _Murmania_," he began. "And by Jove, she will too," he
cried. "Yes, she's due to sail from Liverpool on April 1st."
"But that's your birthday," she objected.
"Exactly."
"And I've already sent out those invitations."
"Exactly. For some years my relations have made an April fool of me by
dining at my expense on that day. I have two corner-cupboards
overflowing with their gifts--the most remarkable exhibition of
cheapness and ingenuity ever known. This year I am going to make April
fools of them."
"By marrying me?" she laughed.
"Well, of course it's no use pretending that they'll be delighted by
that joke, though I intend to play another still more elaborately
unpleasant. At the back of all their minds exists one anxiety--the
dispositions of my last will and testament. Very well. I am going to
cure that worry forever by leaving them Ambles. I can't imagine anything
more irritating than to be left a house in common with a number of
people whom you hate. Oh, it's an exquisite revenge. Darling secretary,
take down for dictation as your last task the following:
"'I, John Touchwood, playwright, of 36 Church Row, Hampstead, N.W., and
Ambles, Wrottesford, Hants, do hereby will and bequeathe.'"
"I don't understand," she said. "Are you really making a will? or are
you only playing a joke?"
"Both."
"But is this really to take effect when you're dead? Oh dear, I wish you
wouldn't talk about death when I've just said I'll marry you."
John paused thoughtfully:
"It does seem rather a challenge to fate," he agreed. "I know what I'll
do. I'll make over Ambles to them at once. After all, I am dead to them,
for I'll never have anything more to do with any of them. Cross out what
you took down. I'll alter the form. Begin as for a letter:
"'My dear relations,
"'When you read this I shall be far away.' ... I think that's the
correct formula?" he asked.
"It sounds familiar from many books," she assured him.
"'Far away on my honeymoon with Miss Doris Hamilton.' Perhaps that
sounds a little ambiguous. Cross out the maiden name and substitute
'with Mrs. John Touchwood, my former secretary. Since you have
attributed to us every link except that of matrimony you will no
doubt be glad of this opportunity to contradict the outrageous
tales you have most of you' ... I say most of you," John explained,
"because I don't really think the children started any scandal ...
'you have most of you been at such pains to invent and circulate.
Realizing that this announcement will come as a sad blow, I am
going to soften it as far as I can by making you a present of my
country house in Hampshire, and I am instructing my solicitors to
effect the conveyance in due form. From now onwards therefore one
fifth of Ambles will belong to James and Beatrice, one fifth to
George, Eleanor, Bertram, and Viola, and one fifth to Hilda and
Harold, one fifth to Edith, Laurence, and Frida, and one fifth to
Hugh.' ... I feel that Hugh is entitled to a proportionately larger
share," he said with his eyes on the ceiling, "because I understand
that I've robbed him of you."
"Who on earth told you that?" she demanded, putting down her
pencil.
"Never mind," said John, humming gayly his exultation. "Continue
please, Miss Hamilton! 'I shall make no attempt to say which fifth
of the house shall belong to whom. Possibly Laurence and Hilda will
argue that out between them, and if any structural alterations are
required no doubt Hugh will charge himself with them. The
twenty-acre field is included in the gift, so that there will be
plenty of ground for any alterations or extensions deemed necessary
by the future owners.'"
"How ridiculous you are ... John," she laughed. "It all sounds so
absurdly practical--as if you really meant it."
"My dear girl, I do mean it. Continue please, Miss Hamilton! 'I
have long felt that the collection of humming-birds made by Daniel
Curtis in the Brazils should be suitably housed, and I propose that
a portion of the stables should be put in order for their reception
together with what is left of the collection of British
dragon-flies made by James. My solicitors will supply a sum of L50
for this purpose and Harold can act as curator of what will be
known as the Touchwood Museum. With regard to Harold's future, the
family knows that I have invested L2000 in the mahogany plantations
of Mr. Sydney Ricketts in British Honduras, and if Hugh does not
take up his post within three months I shall ask Mr. Ricketts to
accept Harold as a pupil in five years' time. He had better begin
to study Hondurasian or whatever the language is called at once.
Until Harold is called upon to make his decision I shall instruct
Mr. Ricketts to put the interest with the capital. While on the
subject of nephews and nieces, I may as well say that the family
pictures and family silver will be sent back to Ambles to be held
in trust for Bertram upon his coming of age. Furthermore, I am
prepared to pay for the education of Bertram, Harold, Frida, and
Viola at good boarding-schools. Viola can practice her dancing in
the holidays. Bertram's future I will provide for when the time
comes. I do not wish George to have any excuse for remaining at
Halma House--and I have no doubt that a private sitting-room will
be awarded to him at Ambles. In the event of undue congestion his
knitting would not disturb Laurence's poetic composition, and his
system of backing second favorites in imagination can be carried on
as easily at Ambles as in London. If he still hankers for a sea
voyage, the river with Harold and himself in a Canadian canoe will
give him all the nautical adventure he requires. My solicitors have
been instructed to place a canoe at his disposal. To James who has
so often reproved me for my optimism I would say-once more "Beware
of new critical weeklies" and remind him that a bird in the hand is
worth two in the bush. In other words, he has got a thousand pounds
out of me, and he won't get another penny. Eleanor has shown
herself so well able to look after herself that I am not going to
insult her by offering to look after her. Hilda with her fifth of
the house and her small private income will have nothing to do but
fuss about the proportionate expenses of the various members of the
family who choose to inhabit Ambles. I am affording her an unique
opportunity for being disagreeable, of which I'm sure she will take
the fullest advantage. I may say that no financial allowance will
be made to those who prefer to live elsewhere. As for Laurence, his
theatrical future under the patronage of Sir Percy Mortimer is no
doubt secure. However, if he grows tired of playing butlers, I hope
that his muse will welcome him back to Ambles as affectionately as
his wife.
"'I don't think I have anything more to say, my dear relations,
except that I hope the presents you are bringing me for my birthday
will come in useful as knick-knacks for your delightful house. You
can now circulate as many stories about me as you like. You can
even say that I have founded a lunatic asylum at Ambles. I am so
happy in the prospect of my marriage that I cannot feel very hardly
towards you all, and so I wish you good luck.
"'Your affectionate brother, brother-in-law, and uncle,
"'JOHN TOUCHWOOD.'
"Type that out, please, Miss Hamilton, while I drive down to Doctors
Commons to see about the license and book our passage in the
_Murmania_."
John had never tasted any success so sweet as the success of these two
days before his forty-third birthday; and he was glad to find that Doris
having once made up her mind about getting married showed no signs of
imperilling the adventure by confiding her intention to her mother.
"Dear John," she said, "I bolted to America with Ida Merritt last year
without a word to Mother until I sent her a wireless from on board.
Surely I may elope with you ... and explain afterwards."
"You don't think it will kill her," suggested John a little anxiously.
"People are apparently quite ready to accuse one of breaking a maternal
heart as lightly as they would accuse one of breaking an appointment."
"Dear John, when we're married she'll be delighted."
"Not too delighted, eh, darling? I mean not so delighted that she'll
want to come and gloat over us all day. You see, when the honeymoon's
over, I shall have to get to work again on that last act, and your
mother does talk a good deal. I know it's very intelligent talk, but it
would be rather an interruption."
The only person they took into their confidence about the wedding,
except the clergyman, the verger, and a crossing-sweeper brought in to
witness the signing of the register was Mrs. Worfolk.
"Well, that's highly satisfactory! You couldn't have chosen a nicer
young lady. Well, I mean to say, I've known her so long and all. And you
expect to be back in June? Oh well, I shall have everything nice and
tidy you may be sure. And this letter you want handed to Mr. James to
be read to the family on your birthday? And I'm to give them their
dinners the same as if you were here yourself? I see. And how many
bottles of champagne shall I open? Oh, not to stint them? No, I quite
understand. Of course, they would want to drink your healths. Certainly.
And so they ought! Well, I'm bound to say I wish Mr. Worfolk could have
been alive. It makes me quite aggravated to think he shouldn't be here.
Well, I mean to say, he being a family carpenter had helped at so many
weddings."
The scene on the _Murmania_ did not differ much from the scene on board
the same ship six months ago. John had insisted that Doris should wear
her misty green suit of Harris tweed; but he himself had bought at the
Burlington Arcade a traveling cap that showed plainly the sobering
effects of matrimony. In the barber's saloon he invested in a pair of
rope-soled shoes; he wanted to be sure of being able to support his wife
even upon a heeling deck. Before dinner they went forward to watch the
stars come out in the twilight--stars that were scarcely as yet more
luminous in the green April sky than daisies in a meadow. They stood
silent listening to the splash of the dusky sea against the bows, until
the shore lamps began to wink astern.
"How savage the night looks coming after us," said John. "It's jolly to
think that in the middle of all that blackness James is reading my
birthday welcome to the family."
"Poor dears!"
"Oh, they deserve all they've got," he said, fiercely. "And to think
that only six months ago I was fool enough to read their letters of
congratulation quite seriously in this very ship. It was you with your
remark about poor relations that put your foot through my picture."
"You're very much married already, aren't you, John?"
"Am I?"
"Yes, for you're already blaming me for everything."
"I suppose this is what James would call one of my confounded
sentimental endings," John murmured.
"Whatever he called it, he couldn't invent a better ending himself," she
murmured back. "You know, critics are very like disappointed old maids."
The great ship trembled faintly in the deeper motion, and John holding
Doris to him felt that she too trembled faintly in unison. They stood
like this in renewed silence until the stars shone clearly, and the
shore lamps were turning to a gold blur. John may be excused for
thinking that the bugle for dinner sounded like a flourish from
_Lohengrin_. He had reason to feel romantic now.
THE END
[Illustration: image of the book's back cover]
* * * * *
The following typogrphical errors have been corrected by the etext
transcriber:
light of a setting moor.=> light of a setting moon.
the attenuated spinsters of Halam=> the attenuated spinsters of Halma
Do you thing Stevie wants=> Do you think Stevie wants
walk to Chealsea=> walk to Chelsea
"It is bcoming every day=> "It is becoming every day
that it it worth while making another attempt=> that it is worth while
making another attempt
taken up a stauesque=> taken up a statuesque
caught a faint mumur about=> caught a faint murmur about
The tax buzzed off.=> The taxi buzzed off.
But I'm serious about the elopment.=> But I'm serious about the
elopement.