LEILA’S IDEA
As Lady Kesters motored home in her smart new Rolls-Royce, her
expression was unusually grave; for once Uncle Dick had proved
invulnerable, and she was overpowered with surprise; for her ladyship
was so accustomed “to push the world before her,” to borrow an Irish
expression, that any little resistance affected her in the nature of a
shock.
Her brother was awaiting her in the smoking-room, and as she entered
and threw off her furs, he said--
“So it was no go, Leila! Your embassy was a failure; defeat is written
on your face--ahem--I told you so!”
“Now, Owen, I call this base ingratitude. I’ve wasted my whole morning
fighting for you, I am worsted in the battle, and you receive me with
grins and gibes!”
“You see, I can understand Uncle Dick’s attitude; he is pretty sick of
me, and I don’t blame him; after all, when you come to think of it, why
should he support a healthy, able-bodied duffer simply because he is
his nephew?”
“Worse than that,” amended his sister, “his heir! _I_ can understand
his attitude even better than you, Owen. As a young man he never had
any real fling, and could scarcely afford cabs and clothes or anything
he wanted. He was hampered by a hopelessly extravagant father.”
“And now in his old age he is tormented by a spendthrift nephew.”
“Yes, and I can’t exactly explain; but I grasp the situation. You have
had, what as a young man he never enjoyed--that is to say, a splendid
time--and chiefly at his expense. He must feel just a little bit sore.”
“No; old Dick is a rattling good sort, and I don’t agree with you,
Leila. It’s not so much the money he grudges, but that he thinks I’ll
never do any good. I’ve no ballast. I’ve got to sally out into the
world, like the hero in a fairy tale, and prove myself!”
“Yes, my dear brother; you practically start to-day, March the 31st,
and do you know that I’ve got an idea,--and from Purdon, of all people.
He is rather smart looking, and might pass for a gentleman, till he
opens his mouth; besides, I happen to know that his mother lives in
Fulham, and keeps a small greengrocer’s shop.”
“Yes, but your idea? You don’t want me to start in that line, do you?”
“No,” with an irrepressible smile; “I want you to become a chauffeur!”
“A chauffeur!” he repeated, subsiding into an adjacent arm-chair; “but
why?”
“But why not?”
“Well, of course, I used to drive a car--and yes--your idea isn’t half
bad; a chauffeur gets about the world for nothing, has fair pay, and,
by all accounts, bar washing the car, a fairly good time.”
“You need not be thinking of a good time, Owen; but put all idea of
amusement out of your head, and make up your mind that, during the next
two years, you will be _doing_ time--as a punishment for your crimes!
Now, to be practical, you must have a certificate, and you and I will
run into the country for the next day or two, and you shall drive
the car; of course you are out of practice, and Purdon shall give you
tips. I suppose you know all about magnetos, carburetters, and speed? I
expect in a week you will qualify and pass, and there you are!”
“Yes, my lady, in a new black leather suit. I’ll do my best; I see
you’ve fixed it up.”
She nodded assent. He was accustomed to Leila’s fixing up of his
affairs, and never disputed her authority.
“You can take the car out in the morning, and get accustomed to the
traffic. I think you will make an excellent chauffeur, as you have a
strong head and no nerves.”
“Perhaps I may, and I’ve a sort of taste for mechanics. As a kid, you
remember, I was mad to be an engine-driver.”
“Yes; you were always blowing things up, or breaking them down, or
taking them to pieces.”
“I dare say I’ll have something of the breaking down and taking to
pieces in my new career.”
“Only it’s so frightfully risky; you might go in for being an
airman--_that’s_ where you could make money!”
“Yes, with a two to one chance of breaking my neck.”
“Think of ten thousand pounds earned in a few hours! All the same it’s
out of the question, I couldn’t bear the anxiety, it’s too dangerous;
though I see the day coming when airships will displace motors, and I
shall be flying over to Paris to dine and do a theatre.”
“Meanwhile, give me mother earth and a 60 h.p. car! Well, so it’s
settled,” he said, jumping to his feet and tossing the stump of his
cigarette into the fire; “yes, I’ll be a chauffeur all right--but what
about the pay?”
“I expect you start at two guineas a week, with or without clothes, and
find yourself.”
“A hundred a year, and an open-air billet! I say, I shall do
splendidly. Leila, I feel that Uncle Dick’s prize is already in my
hand.”
“Don’t be too sure of that! Bear in mind that some situations may not
suit you, that you may not suit them, and be thrown out of employment.”
“That’s true; it has happened to me twice already--the Army and the
ranch--and I’ve no luck.”
“What do you mean, Owen?”
“I mean that nothing comes _my_ way; other chaps get all they want in
big things, or little. Don’t you know the sort that fall across people
they wish to meet, that get the best corners at a shoot, the best hands
at cards, that win big sweepstakes and lotteries, come in for fine
legacies, and, at a good old age, die very comfortably in their beds?”
His sister nodded.
“I have one peculiarity. I can’t call it gift, and it’s of no earthly
value. I only wish it was marketable; I’d pass it on like a shot.”
“What is it--second sight?”
“No, that’s all bosh! It’s--it’s--I don’t know how to put it--the being
on the spot when out-of-the-way affairs come off,--sensational things,
accidents, discoveries, deaths. They seem to drop into my day’s work in
an extraordinary way; sometimes I begin to think I’ve got the Evil Eye!”
“Now _that’s_ nonsense if you like! You have knocked about a good deal
for the last seven years, and naturally seen far more than people at
home.”
“Well, anyhow, I wish this queer sort of fate would change, and shove
me towards something different--a good post.”
“And you believe you’d keep it?”
“Anyway, I’d do my little best. My three weeks as steward were a
breaking-in.”
“But you were acting all the time, Owen--you know you love it! and you
realised that there was a limit to the experience?”
“No, honour bright, I wasn’t playing the fool. I am quick and ready,
and not afraid of work. I say, look here,” and he took his hands out of
his pockets and held them up, the palms towards her.
“Oh, oh, my poor dear boy! they are like--like--leather! Like a working
man’s, only clean!”
“Well, I never was a kid-glove chap, and the reins have hardly been out
of them for twelve months. I’m fairly good with my hands, although an
awful duffer with my head.”
“Just the opposite to me,” declared his sister; “I can scarcely sew a
button on, and I can’t do up a parcel or tie a knot. But to return to
our business. Once you have a certificate, the next thing will be to
find you a situation. You had better begin in some very quiet country
place--a long way from Town and talk--and I will recommend you.”
“_You!_” and he burst into a loud laugh.
“Oh yes, you may laugh; but who else is there? We do not wish to invite
the world into our family laundry.”
“Thank you, Leila.”
“Don’t be silly! I will give you an excellent character,” she continued
imperturbably, “as a sober, respectable young man, most careful,
obliging, and anxious to please.”
“Well, that sounds all right.”
“And you must really be, as the French advertisements say, ‘_un
chauffeur sérieux_,’ and promise not to play the fool, and I shall get
you a nice situation that I happen to know of, with two old ladies.”
“O Lord!” he expostulated; “can’t you make it a couple of old
gentlemen? I’d much rather go to them.”
“Yes, no doubt you would,” she answered; “but you cannot pick and
choose, and this place seems the very one for a start. These are the
two Miss Parretts.”
“I say, what a name! Any cats?”
“I believe they are an old French family--de Palairet, and have the
dark eyes and animation of the race,--but they are so long in England,
they have become Parrett.”
“De Palairet _is_ rather a mouthful. And whereabouts do the old birds
nest?”
“In a remote part of Midshire. I came across them when I stayed with
our cousins, the Davenants, down at Westmere; when I was a girl I went
there every summer, but now the family place is sold.”
“Yes, the Davenants are broke. Young Davenant was in the Hussars with
me, and was frightfully hard up.”
“The two Miss Parretts lived in the village of Ottinge--
Ottinge-in-the-Marsh--in a little old red cottage. They had
two maids, two cats, and a sweet garden. The original property was in
the neighbourhood, and the family manor of the Parretts. The father
of these old ladies, Colonel Parrett, married in India, when he was a
sub., a planter’s daughter, simply because he, they say, was _dared_ to
make her an offer--and whatever a Parrett is dared to do--they do.”
“I say, I think I shall like them! I shall dare them to double my
salary.”
“The first Mrs. Parrett died and left a baby, your future mistress.
Her father sent her home, and married, years later, an Irish girl,
and again his wife died and left him with two more girls. One married
the village parson, the other lived with her father and sister in
the Manor. After the death of Colonel Parrett, it was found that he
had squandered all his money putting it into follies: the Manor was
mortgaged to the chimneys, the daughters had to turn out, and for years
lived in genteel poverty. Now comes a turn of Fortune’s wheel! Some
distant Parrett relative bequeathed a heap of money to Miss Parrett,
and she and Miss Susan have gone back to the Manor. Bella Parrett must
be well over seventy; Susan is about fifty, has the youngest heart I
ever knew in an elderly body, and is the most unselfish creature in the
world. Miss Parrett is an egotistical old person, full of pedigree and
importance, but always delightfully sweet and affectionate to _me_. She
looks obstinate and self-willed, and I feel positive that some one has
dared her to buy a motor! I had a letter from her the other day, asking
me to take up the character of a cook; she mentioned that she was about
to purchase a most beautiful automobile upholstered in green morocco
leather,--think of that! and would soon be looking for a nice, steady,
respectable young man as chauffeur, and”--pointing at her brother with
an ivory paper knife--“here he is!”
“Is he?” he responded doubtfully, “I’m not so sure.”
“Yes. I admit that it will be hideously dull, and I can absolutely
guarantee you against any sensational experiences. It is just a sleepy
little country place, with few big people in the neighbourhood: no
racing, shockingly bad hunting--not that this will affect _you_--but
it will be an ideal spot for putting in the time. You will never see
a soul you know; I’ll keep you well supplied with books, papers, and
news, and steal down to see you now and then, ‘under the rose.’”
“Don’t, don’t!” he protested, with a laugh, “think of my spotless
character.”
“Yes; but I shall come all the same! The place is notoriously healthy,
I dare say you may get some good fishing, you will hardly have anything
to do--they won’t go out much--of course you’ll pay a boy to clean the
car, and I’ve no doubt that the old ladies will take an enormous fancy
to you and leave you a fortune, and you will be just as happy as the
day is long.”
“Oh, all right. Then, in that case, my dear Sis, since you say there is
a chance of a great fortune and good fishing, you may book me for the
situation by the next post.”