DE L'AUDACE, ET ENCORE DE L'AUDACE, ET TOUJOURS DE L'AUDACE!
"Daddy," announced Amelia in a stage whisper, "there's a man
downstairs."
"What sort of man?" enquired Mr. Welwyn, rising from his seat and edging
carelessly in the direction of his bedroom door.
"A rough-looking man."
"Tell him," said Mr. Welwyn with his hand on the door-handle, "that I am
not at home. Percy! Quick! Keep that fellow out!"
But it was too late. A stranger stood in the midst of the House of
Welwyn.
He was an elderly, undersized, seedy-looking individual, with a blue
chin, a red nose, and a faded theatrical manner. In his hand he held a
blue-grey slip of paper. He smiled amiably upon the shrinking figure of
the master of the house.
"Don't trouble to exit on my account, sir," he remarked wheezily.
"Who are you?" stammered Mr. Welwyn. "What is the meaning of this
intrusion?"
"Name of Welwyn?" enquired the stranger briskly.
"Yes."
"Loosius?"
"Yes."
"Then," announced the stranger, proffering the blue paper, "I must arsk
you for your hospitality for a short time--a mere matter o' _form_, of
course--until this small account is settled. It's Gandy and Cox," he
continued chattily: "seventeen-seventeen-six; and I 'm put in possession
until it's settled. In other words, 'ere I am, and 'ere I stays until I
gets what I came for."
Depositing his frayed headgear upon the piano, the emissary of Gandy and
Cox was upon the point of selecting a chair, when he became conscious of
a sudden pressure upon the nape of his neck.
"Outside!" intimated Percy's voice.
"Pardon me," replied the visitor without moving, "but you touch me at
your own risk. I'm put in by the law."
There was a stifled cry from Mrs. Welwyn and the girls.
"The warrant was signed and 'anded to me this morning," continued the
representative of Justice, "at ten-thirty exact. It is now in the 'ands
of your Pa, young ladies--"
"Law be damned! Out you go!" shouted Percy, whirling the speaker round
towards the door.
"Reflect!" urged the broker's man, gently resisting Percy's efforts to
eject him by leaning back and digging his heels into the carpet. "What's
the good? If you dot me one and fling me out, it merely means fourteen
days without the option for assaulting a sheriff's officer in the
execution of his duty, on top of the distraint. If you don't believe
me," he added, clinging affectionately to the leg of the piano, which he
was passing at the moment, "go and read the warrant."
[Illustration: "REFLECT!" URGED THE BROKER'S MAN, GENTLY RESISTING
PERCY'S EFFORTS TO EJECT HIM]
"He is right, Percy," said Mr. Welwyn. "Leave him alone. A sheriff's
officer!" he muttered brokenly to himself, as his son relinquished his
endeavour to speed the parting guest. "And I was once Fellow and
Tutor!"
"A broker's man!" wailed Mrs. Welwyn, putting an arm round each of her
daughters. "And I brought you up respectable, dearies!"
"A broker's man!" echoed Tilly, "and Lady Adela coming here this
afternoon!"
This was too much for that unpolished but chivalrous youth Percy.
Something must be done, for Tilly's sake.
"Dad," he said desperately, laying a hand on his father's shoulder,
"ain't you got no money nowhere?"
Mr. Welwyn shook his head helplessly.
"Mother?" said Percy.
"I've got about fifteen shillings," said Mrs. Welwyn, brightening up at
the prospect of action. "How much did that insect"--she indicated the
minion of the law, now warming himself at the fireplace--"say it was?"
"Seventeen-seventeen-six," replied the insect, with the air of one
letting off a telling repartee.
"There is n't so much money in all the world!" whispered Amelia
despairingly.
"I've got six-and-threepence," said Percy, diving into his pockets.
A thought occurred to Mrs. Welwyn.
"Father," she enquired of the motionless figure on the sofa, "did n't
you tell me that Gandy and Cox's bill was only a matter of seven
pounds?"
"It was, it was," said Mr. Welwyn, "but--I ordered a little more, to
keep them quiet."
Mrs. Welwyn, admirable woman, wasted no time in useless reproaches.
Instead, she turned once more upon the broker's man.
"Now, look here," she said; "I want to ask a favour of you. We're
expecting company here this afternoon. Will you go away, and come back
in the evening?"
"And find the front door bolted!" replied the broker's man affably.
"No, I don't _think_! I prefer to remain. I've been in this profession
for some time now--ever since I abandoned _the_ profession, in fact--and
I know a thing or two. I'm sorry," he added, "to disoblige a lady, and I
hope you won't take offence where none was intended. Try to look on the
bright side of things. I might 'ave been a auction."
Percy broke in upon these comfortable words.
"Look here," he said; "will you go away for a quid?"
"There is nothing," replied the visitor, "that I should like at this
present moment better than a quid; but I'm afraid it's my duty to stay.
I shan't do nobody any 'arm, beyond taking a inventory of the furniture.
You'll find me quite a confidential family friend in a day or two, I
should n't wonder. Oh, dear, 'ere's another of 'em coming to 'ave a
go!"
He closed his eyes resignedly. Before him stood Tilly--small, slim,
white to the lips, with all her world tottering on the brink of the
abyss. In her hands she held a cigar-box.
"What is your name?" she asked.
"Surname," replied the broker's man pedantically, "Stillbottle.
Christian ditto, Samuel. Net result, Samuel Stillbottle."
"Have a cigar, Mr. Stillbottle," said Tilly, with a ghost of a smile.
Mr. Stillbottle helped himself without comment. He was a man for whom
life held few surprises. "Thank you. But I won't go, mind you," was all
he said.
Next moment Tilly motioned him to a chair beside the table, and set the
decanter and a glass beside him. "Have something to drink, Mr.
Stillbottle," she said.
"I shall be pleased to do so," replied Mr. Stillbottle graciously.
"Without prejudice, of course," he added, filling his glass.
By this time the others, astonished and interrogative, had gathered
round Tilly.
"Tilly," burst out Percy, "what's the good? He won't go--don't you think
it!"
"Young man," corroborated Mr. Stillbottle, "you are right. I won't.
You 've done it in one."
Tilly took an arm of Percy and another of her mother and drew both in
the direction of the sofa. Her breath came fast.
"Listen," she said rapidly--"you too, Dad! We _will_ have our tea-party.
We won't throw up a single item in the programme. We'll entertain the
Mainwarings, and we'll show them that we know how to do things in proper
style, and we'll make them all enjoy themselves--even Sylvia--and I'll
get my Dicky yet!"
She paused, and surveyed her mystified audience with shining eyes.
"But, Sis," enquired the dubious Percy, indicating the fully occupied
Mr. Stillbottle, "what about Rockefeller over there?"
The indomitable Tilly laughed.
"He is our old family butler!" she said simply.