The Curtain began to descend very slowly, with Ferdinand and Adele
holding the Picture.
It seems, however, that they had not come to the real, sure-enough
Finis. The Terminus was some distance down the Line.
The Curtain refused to fall.
"What is the idea?" asked Adele, somewhat perturbed. "We have hit the
logical Climax of our Romance. As I understand it, we are now supposed
to ascend in a Cloud and float through Ethereal Bliss for an
indefinite Period.
"Right-o!" said Fiancé. "According to all the approved Dope, we are
booked to live happily ever after."
Just then Her Best Friend came rapidly down the Gravel Walk with
Anxiety stenciled on her Features.
The accepted Swain seemed to hear a low rumbling Wagnerian Effect from
out the Clear Sky. In Music-Drama it is known as the Hammer Theme.
It is included in the Curriculum at every Fem Sem.
Ferdinand had a Hunch that somebody was getting ready to drop Cyanide
of Potassium into his Cup of Joy.
"Oh, Adele!" said the Friend, just like that. "Oh, Adele, may I speak
to you for a Mo-munt?"
Ferdinand made his Exit, much peeved, and the Friend expressed a Hope
that she had arrived in time to throw the Switch and avert the
Wrecking of a Life.
Far be it from her to Snitch, but it was her Duty to put Adele wise to
what every one was whispering Under Cover.
She had no absolute Proof that he had carried on with a Front Row
Floss in New Haven, but it was Common Talk that one of his Uncles had
been a Regular at a Retreat where the Doctor shoots a Precious Metal
into the Arm.
It would be terrible to marry someone and then find out that he Drank,
the same as all the other Married Men.
Leaving Adele in a Deep Swoon, the true Friend hurried to the nearest
Public 'Phone to spread the dismal Tidings.
In the meantime the elated Lover had loped all the way to the
University Club to spring it on the Navajos and receive their
Felicitations.
His Rapture had rendered him fairly incoherent, and he was gurgling
like an after-dinner Percolator; but he finally made it evident that
he had been Hooked.
A deep Silence ensued, most of those present looking out the Window at
the passing Traffic.
Finally a Shell-Back, who had been leading a Life of Single Torment
ever since Sumter was fired upon, asked in a sepulchral Tone and
without looking up from his Hand, "Has the Date been set?"
Ferdinand tried to tell them that he was going to the Altar and not to
the Electric Chair, but he couldn't get a single Slap on the Back.
The only one evincing Interest was a He-Hen named Herbert, who took
him into the Cloak-Room to plant a few Canadian Thistles in the Garden
of Love.
Herb said he had always liked the Girl, even if she had given a couple
of his Best Pals the Whillykathrow.
His Advice was to up and marry her before she had time to pull one of
her temperamental Stunts and hand out the Rinkaboo.
Possibly if she could be weaned away from her eccentric Relations and
governed with a Firm Hand she would turn out O.K.
Still, it was a tall Gamble. Under the Circumstances, he didn't see
that there was anything for Ferdinand to do except mop up a few Drinks
and hope for the Best.
When Ferdy looked at himself in the Mirror at Midnight, he didn't know
whether he was Engaged or merely operating under a Suspended Sentence.
Next morning he had to bare his Soul to the Head of the Firm. This
revered Fluff should have been known as Mr. Yes-But.
He was strong for the Married State, but it was highly advisable to
have the Girl analyzed by a Chemist and passed upon by a Board of
Experts before a Bid was submitted.
The Sunflower Paths of Dalliance were leading mostly to Reno, Nevada,
and the Article commonly known as Love was merely a disinclination to
continue eating Breakfast alone.
He said a Good Woman was a Jewel, but if one of them got a fair Run
and Jump at a Check-Book she could put the National City Bank on the
Hummer.
Probably it was all right to go ahead, and take the High Hurdle, but
the Percentage was against the Candidate, and the Cost of Living was
never so altitudinous.
Ferdinand retired from the Royal Presence feeling that he had been
duly authorized to walk a Tight Rope over Niagara Falls.
As soon as the Bride-Elect had taken enough Headache Powders to
prepare her for the Ordeal, she sent for the Suspect to come up to the
House and outline his Defense.
They put in a humid Evening. When the falling Tears had made the
Drawing-Room too soppy for further use, they moved into the Hallway
and he continued to think up Alibis.
At 11 P.M. he had explained Everything, repudiated many lifelong
Friendships, deodorized his College Career, flouted the Demon Rum, and
resigned from all Clubs.
The Birds were singing up and down the Main Stairway and Grandfather's
Clock played nothing but Mendelssohn.
She lay damply pillowed on his Bosom. He was intensely relieved and
yet vaguely conscious of the Fact that she had beat him to it. There
had been a General Settlement, and he had figured merely as Supreme
Goat.
In his anxiety to get the Kinks out of his own Record he had failed to
hold her up for anything except a Pardon.
Before terminating the Peace Conference, it was suggested that
inasmuch as every one else in the World had been notified, probably it
would be just as well to let her Male Parent in on the Secret. Not
that Father is regarded as a Principal in the up-to-date Household.
Still, he is useful as a Super.
The old Gentleman was so soft that he nearly tipped his Hand. He gave
Ferdinand a regular Cigar and then stalled for about 30 Seconds before
indicating a Willingness to sign any form of Contract.
He pulled the Old One to the effect that the House would not seem the
same after Addie had gone away, meaning that Breakfast would be served
in the Morning and the Night Shift abolished.
When Ferdinand got back to his Room and counted up, he had to admit
that Father was the only Outsider who seemed to be plugging for the
Alliance.
But all petty Suspicions and unworthy Doubts flickered and disappeared
when Nightfall came and Queenie was once more cuddled within the
strong right Fin, naming over some of the Men that he mustn't speak to
any more.
The course of True Love ran smooth for a couple of Days, and then came
a letter from his People, expressing the hope that he had picked out a
devout Unitarian. Otherwise the Progeny would start off under a
terrible Handicap.
He knew that Adele favored the Suffrage Thing and that she had read a
Book on how to recover from a Dance by lying down and giving a
Recitation, but he never had suspected her of any real Religious
Scruples.
Before he could tell her how the Little Ones had been predestined, she
notified him that her kinsmen had been peering into the Future and
that all the problematical Offspring had been put on the Waiting List
at the First Baptist Church.
Here was a grand Opening for Ferdinand. He resolved to make a Stand
and issue a ringing Ultimatum. He might as well tip it off to her and
the whole Tribe that he was to be Cæsar in his own Shack.
So he went up to her House ready to die in the last Ditch rather than
yield to the advocates of Immersion. After viewing the Problem in all
its Aspects, he and Honey compromised by deciding that the Bairns were
to be orthodox Baptists.
Having sponged every Blot from the Escutcheon and laid out the Labels
for all Generations yet unborn, the incipient Benedick thought there
would be nothing more to it except Holding Hands and watching the
Calendar.
Just then a Dress-Maker swooped down and stole away the Light of his
Life.
Every time he went up to scratch on the Door and beg for a Kiss, a
Strange Lady with Pins in her Mouth would come out and shoo him away,
explaining that the Pearl of Womanhood was laid out in the Operating
Room, being measured for something additional.
Occasionally he saw her, at one of the many Dinners decreed by Custom.
They had to sit Miles apart, with Mountains of unseemly Victuals
stacked between them, while some moss-grown Offshoot of the Family
Tree rose and conquered his Asthma long enough to propose a Toast to
the Bride.
What they really craved was a Dim Corner and a box of Candied
Cherries.
The only Speeches they wished to hear could have been constructed out
of the 40 words of standard Baby Talk, comprising what is known as the
Mush Vocabulary.
Yet they had to muster the same old property Smile every time that
Charley Bromide or old Mr. Platitude lifted a shell of sparkling
Vinegar and fervently exclaimed, "Thuh Bride!"
Even after the Menu had been wrecked and the satiated Revelers had
laboriously pried themselves away from the decorated Board, there was
no escape.
The Women Folks led Adele away to some remote Apartment to sound a Few
Warnings, while the Men sat around in the Blue Smoke and joshed
Ferdinand to a fare-ye-well.
Each morning he found in his Mail a few Sealed Orders from
Headquarters and about as many Stage Directions as would be required
for putting on the Annual Show at the Hippodrome.
When he was not begging some one to come and Ush for him, he was
either checking over the Glove List with a terrified Best Man or
getting measured for a full layout of dark Livery that made him look
like a refined Floor-Walker.
It seemed that Adele had a Step-Mother who had been crouched for Years
waiting for a chance to bust into the Papers. Nothing would do her but
a regular Madison Square Phantasmagoria, with two Rings and an
elevated Platform.
She wanted Ribbons down the Aisle and little Girls sprinkling Posies,
a Concert Orchestra buried under the Palms, and a few extra Ministers
of the Gospel just to dress the Pulpit.
Every superfluous Accessory devised by the Nerve Specialist and
approved by the Court of Bankruptcy was woven into the Nuptial Circus
when Ferdinand and Adele were made one and Unhookable.
The Rehearsals somewhat resembled the Moving Pictures of the Durbar at
Delhi.
As a final Preparation for the Stupendous Pageant, the Groom sat up
all night in the Dipsomania Club, watching the Head-Liners of the Blue
Book demolish Glassware.
According to the dictates of Fashion, one who is about to assume the
solemn Responsibilities of Matrimony should abstain from Slumber for a
week, devoting the time thus saved to a full consideration of Food and
Drink.
The Ambulance bore his Remains to the Church. A few faithful
Hang-Overs lifted him through the Portals, with his Toes dragging
somewhat in the Rear.
They propped him against a Pilaster and told him his Name and begged
him not to weaken, no matter what the Preacher might put up to him.
Soon after he saw a Haggard Creature all fluffed about with White
advancing unsteadily toward him. With the Make-Up, she did not look a
Day over 47.
He did not hear any of the Service, but those who were more fortunate
told him afterward that it was a very Pretty Wedding, and that the
Presents they got were Simply Great.
MORAL: Too many Trained Nurses discommode Cupid.