Thaddeus was tired, and, therefore, Thaddeus was grumpy. One
premise only was necessary for the conclusion--in fact, it was the
only premise upon which a conclusion involving Thaddeus's grumpiness
could find a foothold. If Thaddeus felt rested, everything in the
world could go wrong and he would smile as sweetly as ever; but with
the slightest trace of weariness in his system the smile would fade,
wrinkles would gather on his forehead, and grumpiness set in whether
things were right or wrong. On this special occasion to which I
refer, things were just wrong enough to give him a decent excuse--
outside of his weariness--for his irritation. Norah, the housemaid,
had officiously undertaken to cover up the shortcomings of John, who
should have blacked Thaddeus's boots, and who had taken his day off
without preparing the extra pair which the lord of the manor had
expected to wear that evening. It was nice of the housemaid, of
course, to try to black the extra pair to keep John out of trouble,
but she might have been more discriminating. It was not necessary
for her to polish, until they shone like Claude Lorraine glasses,
two right boots, one of which, paradoxical as it may seem, was
consequently the wrong boot; so that when Thaddeus came to dress for
the evening's diversion there was nowhere to be found in his shoe-
box a bit of leathern gear in which his left foot might appear in
polite society to advantage. Possibly Thaddeus might have endured
the pain of a right boot on a left foot, had not Norah unfortunately
chosen for that member a box-toed boot, while for the right she had
selected one with a very decided acute angle at its toe-end.
"Just like a woman!" ejaculated Thaddeus, angrily.
"Yes," returned Bessie, missing Thaddeus's point slightly. "It was
very thoughtful of Norah to look after John's work, knowing how
important it was to you."
Fortunately Thaddeus was out of breath trying to shine up the other
pointed-toe shoe, so that his only reply to this was a look, which
Bessie, absorbed as she was in putting the studs in Thaddeus's
shirt, did not see. If she had seen it, I doubt if she would have
been so entirely happy as the tender little song she was humming
softly to herself seemed to indicate that she was.
"Some people are born lucky!" growled Thaddeus, as he finished
rubbing up the left boot, giving it a satin finish which hardly
matched the luminous brilliance of its mate, though he said it would
do. "There's Bradley, now; he never has any domestic woes of this
sort, and he pays just half what we do for his servants."
"Oh, Mr. Bradley. I don't like him!" ejaculated Bessie. "You are
always talking about Mr. Bradley, as if he had an automaton for a
servant."
"No, I don't say he has an automaton," returned Thaddeus.
"Automatons don't often work, and Bradley's jewel does. Her name is
Mary, but Bradley always calls her his jewel."
"I've heard of jewels," said Bessie, thinking of the two Thaddeus
and she had begun their married life with, "but they've always
seemed to me to be paste emeralds--awfully green, and not worth
much."
"There's no paste emerald about Bradley's girl," said Thaddeus.
"Why, he says that woman has been in Mrs. Bradley's employ for seven
weeks now, and she hasn't broken a bit of china; never sweeps dust
under the beds or bureaus; keeps the silver polished so that it
looks as if it were solid; gets up at six every morning; cooks well;
is civil, sober, industrious; has no hangers-on--"
"Is Mr. Bradley a realist or a romancer?" asked Bessie.
"Why do you ask that?" replied Thaddeus.
"That jewel story sounds like an Arabian Nights tale," said Bessie.
"I don't believe that it is more than half true, and that half is
exaggerated."
"Well, it IS true," said Thaddeus. "And, what is more, the girl
helps in the washing, plays with the children, and on her days out
she stays at home and does sewing."
Bessie laughed. "She must be a regular Koh-i-noor," she said. "I
suppose Mr. Bradley pays her a thousand dollars a month."
"No, he doesn't; he pays her twelve," said Thaddeus.
"Then he is just what I said he was," snapped Bessie--"a mean thing.
The idea--twelve dollars a month for all that! Why, if she could
prove she was all that you say she is, she could make ten times that
amount by exhibiting herself. She is a curiosity. But if I were
Mrs. Bradley I wouldn't have her in the house. So many virtues
piled one on the other are sure to make an unsafe structure, and I
believe some poor, miserable little vice will crop out somewhere and
upset the whole thing."
"You are jealous," said Thaddeus; and then he went out.
The next day, meeting his friend Bradley on the street, Thaddeus
greeted him with a smile, and said, "Mrs. Perkins thinks you ought
to take up literature."
"Why so?" asked Bradley.
"She thinks De Foe and Scott and Dumas and Stevenson would be thrown
into the depths of oblivion if you were to write up that jewel of
yours," said Thaddeus. "She thinks your Mary is one of the finest,
most imaginative creations of modern days."
"She doubts her existence, eh?" smiled Bradley.
"Well, she thinks she's more likely to be a myth than a Smith," said
Thaddeus. "She told me to ask you if Mary has a twin-sister, and to
say that if you hear of her having any relatives at all--and no
domestic ever lived who hadn't--to send her their addresses. She'd
like to employ a few."
"I am sorry Mrs. Perkins is so blinded by jealousy," said Bradley,
with a smile. "And I regret to say that Mary hasn't a cousin on the
whole police force, or, in fact, any kind of a relative whatsoever,
unless she prevaricates."
"Too bad," said Thaddeus. "I had a vague hope we could stock up on
jewels of her kind. Where did you get her, anyhow--Tiffany's?"
"No. At an unintelligence office," said Bradley. "She was a last
resort. We had to have some one, and she was the only girl there.
We took her for a week on trial without references, and, by Jove!
she turned out a wonder."
Thaddeus grinned, and said: "Give her time, Bradley. By-the-way,
at what hours is she on exhibition? I'd like to see her."
"Come up to-night and test the truth of what I say," said Bradley.
"I won't let anybody know you are coming, and you'll see her just as
we see her. What do you say?"
The temptation was too strong for Thaddeus to resist, and so it was
that Bessie received a telegram that afternoon from her beloved,
stating that he would dine with Bradley, and return home on a late
train. The telegram concluded with the line, "I'M GOING TO APPRAISE
THE ESCAPED CROWN-JEWEL."
Bessie chuckled at this, and stayed up until long after the arrival
of the last train, so interested was she to hear from Thaddeus all
about the Bradley jewel, who, as she said, "seemed too good to be
true"; but she was finally forced to retire disappointed and
somewhat anxious, for Thaddeus did not return home that night.
Somewhere in the neighborhood of eight o'clock the next morning
Bessie received a second telegram, which read as follows:
"DO NOT WORRY. I AM ALL RIGHT. WILL BE HOME ABOUT NINE, HAVE
BREAKFAST."
"Now I wonder what on earth can have kept him?" Bessie said.
"Something has happened, I am sure. Perhaps an accident on the
elevated, or maybe--"
She did not finish the sentence, but rushed into the library and
snatched up the morning paper, scanning its every column in the
expectation, if not hope, of finding that some horrible disaster had
occurred, in which her Thaddeus might have been involved. The paper
disclosed nothing of the sort. Only a few commonplace murders, the
usual assortment of defalcations, baseball prophecies, and political
prognostications could Bessie discover therein. Never, in fact, had
the newspaper seemed so uninteresting--not even a bargain-counter
announcement was there--and with an impatient, petulant stamp of her
little foot she threw the journal from her and returned to the
dining-room. It was then half-past eight, and, hardly able to
contain herself with excitement, Bessie sat down by the window, and
almost, if not quite, counted every swing of the pendulum that
pushed the hands of the clock on to the desired hour. She could not
eat, and not until curiosity was gratified as to what it was that
had detained Thaddeus, and what, more singular still, was bringing
him home instead of sending him to business at nine o'clock in the
morning, could she, in fact, do anything.
Finally, the grinding sounds of carriage wheels on the gravel road
without were heard, and in an instant Bessie was at the door to
welcome the prodigal. And what a Thaddeus it was that came home
that morning! His eyes showed conclusively that he had had no
sleep, save the more or less unsatisfactory napping which suburban
residents get on the trains. His beautiful pearl-gray scarf, that
so became him when he left home the previous morning, was not
anywhere in sight. His cheek was scratched, and every button that
his vest had ever known had taken wings unto itself and flown,
Bessie knew not whither. And yet, tired out as he was, dishevelled
as he was, Thaddeus was not grumpy, but inclined rather to explosive
laughter as he entered the house.
"Why, Thaddeus!" cried Bessie, in alarm. "What on earth is the
matter with you? You look as if you had been in a riot."
"That's a pretty good guess, my dear," returned Thaddeus, with a
laugh, "but not quite the right one."
"But tell me, what have you been doing? Where have you been?"
"At Bradley's, my love."
"You haven't been--been quarrelling with Mr. Bradley?"
"No. Bradley's jewel has proved your husband's Waterloo, as well as
the Sedan of Bradley himself," returned Thaddeus, throwing his head
back and bursting out into a loud guffaw.
"I am not good at riddles, Thaddeus," said Bessie, "and I haven't
laughed much myself since that last train came in last night and
didn't bring you. I think you might tell me--"
"Why, my dear little girl," said Thaddeus, walking to her side and
kissing her, "I didn't mean to keep you in suspense, and of course
I'll tell you."
Then, as they ate their breakfast, Thaddeus explained. "I told
Bradley that you were a sceptic on the subject of his jewel," he
said, "and he offered to prove that she was eighteen carats fine by
taking me home with him, an unexpected guest, by which act he would
test her value to my satisfaction. Of course, having cast doubts
upon her excellence, I had to accept, and at half-past five he and I
boarded an elevated train for Harlem. At six we stood before
Bradley's front door, and as he had left his keys at the office, he
rang the bell and waited. It was a long wait, considering the
presence of a jewel within doors. It must have lasted fifteen
minutes, and even that would have been but the beginning, in spite
of repeated and continuous pulling of the bell-handle, had we not
determined to enter through the reception-room window."
"Did you try the basement door?" queried Bessie, with a smile, for
it pleased her to hear that the jewel was not quite flawless.
"Yes," said Thaddeus. "We rang four times at the basement, and I
should say seven times at the front door, and then we took to the
window. Bradley's is one of those narrow English-basement houses
with a small yard in front, so that the reception-room window is
easy to reach by climbing over the vault leading to the basement
door, which is more or less of a cellar entrance. Fortunately the
window was unlocked. I say fortunately, because it enabled us to
get into the house, though if I were sitting on a jury I think I
should base an indictment--one of criminal negligence--of the Jewel
on the fact that it was unlocked. It was just the hour, you know,
when policemen yawn and sneak-thieves prowl."
"How careless!" vouchsafed Bessie.
"Very," said Thaddeus. "But this time it worked for the good of all
concerned, although my personal appearance doesn't give any
indication that I gained anything by it. In fact, it would have
been better for me if the house had been hermetically sealed."
"Don't dally so much, Thaddeus," put in Bessie. "I'm anxious to
hear what happened."
"Well, of course Bradley was very much concerned," continued
Thaddeus. "It was bad enough not to be able to attract the maid's
attention by ringing, but when he noticed that the house was as dark
as pitch, and that despite the clanging of the bell, which could be
heard all over the neighborhood, even his wife didn't come to the
door, he was worried; and he was more worried than ever when he got
inside. We lit the gas in the hall, and walked back into the
dining-room, where we also lighted up, and such confusion as was
there you never saw! The table-cloth was in a heap on the floor;
Bradley's candelabra, of which he was always so proud, were bent and
twisted out of shape under the table; glasses broken beyond
redemption were strewn round about; and a mixture of pepper, salt,
and sugar was over everything."
"'I believe there have been thieves here,' said Bradley, his face
turning white. And then he went to the foot of the stairs and
called up to his wife, but there no answer.
"Then he started on a dead run up the stair. Above all was in
confusion, as in the dining-room. Vases were broken, pictures hung
awry on the walls; but nowhere was Mrs. Bradley or one of the
Bradley children to be seen.
"Then we began a systematic search of the house. Everywhere
everything was upside-down, and finally we came to a door on the
third story back, leading into the children's play-room, and as we
turned the knob and tried to open it we heard Mrs. Bradley's voice
from within.
"'Who's there?' she said, her voice all of a tremble.
"'It is I!' returned Bradley. 'Open the door. What is the meaning
of all this?'
"'Oh, I'm so glad you have come!' returned Mrs. Bradley, with a sob,
and then we heard sounds as of the moving of heavy furniture. Mrs.
Bradley, for some as yet unexplained reason, seemed to have
barricaded herself in.
"Finally the door was opened, and Mrs. Bradley buried her face on
her husband's shoulder and sobbed hysterically.
"'What on earth is the matter?' asked Bradley, as his children
followed their mother's lead, except that they buried their faces in
his coat-tail pockets. 'What has happened?'
"'Mary!' gasped Mrs. Bradley."
"The jewel?" asked Bessie.
"The same," returned Thaddeus, with a smile. "She was the jewel,
alas! now deprived of her former glorious setting.
"'What's the matter with Mary?' asked Bradley.
"'She's been behaving outrageously. I found her this morning,' said
Mrs. Bradley, 'rummaging through my escritoire, throwing things all
over the floor; and when I remonstrated she said she was looking for
a sheet of paper on which to write a letter. I told her she should
have asked me for it, and she replied impertinently that she never
asked favors of anybody. I told her to leave the room, and she
declined to do it, picking up a sofa-pillow and throwing it at me.
I was so overcome I nearly fainted.'"
"I should think she would have been overcome! Such impudence!" said
Bessie.
"Humph!" said Thaddeus. "That isn't a marker to what followed.
Why, according to Mrs. Bradley's story, that escaped Koh-i-noor
called her all sorts of horrible names, threw an empty ink-pot at a
photograph of Bradley himself, that stood on the mantel, and then,
grabbing up a whisk-broom, literally swept everything else there was
on the mantel off to the floor with it. This done, she began to
overturn chairs with an ardor born of temper, apparently; and,
finally, Mrs. Bradley got so frightened that she ran from the room,
and the jewel started in pursuit. Straight to the nursery ran the
lady of the house--for there was where the children were, playing
house, no doubt, with little idea that jewels sometimes
deteriorated. Once in the nursery, Mrs. Bradley slammed the door
to, locked it, and then, still fearful, rolled before it the bureau
and the children's cribs. After that the actions of the jewel could
only be surmised. The door was pounded and the atmosphere of the
hall was rent with violent harangues; then a hurried step was heard
as the jewel presumably sailed below-stairs; then crashings were
heard--crashings which might have indicated the smashing of windows,
of picture-glass, of mirrors, chairs, and other household
appurtenances, after which, Mrs. Bradley observed, all became
still."
"Mercy! what a trial!" said Bessie. "And was she locked up in the
nursery all day?"
"From twelve until we rescued her at a little after six," said
Thaddeus. "Then Bradley and I started out to find the jewel, if
possible, and I regret to say that it was possible. We found her
asleep on the kitchen table, and Bradley hadn't any more sense than
to try and wake her up. He succeeded too well. For the next ten
minutes she was the most wide-awake woman you ever saw, and she kept
us wide awake too. The minute she opened her eyes and saw us
standing before her, she sprang to her feet and made a rush at
Bradley, for which he was totally unprepared, the consequence of
which was that in an instant he found himself sitting in a very
undignified manner, for the head of the house, on the kitchen floor,
trying to collect his somewhat scattered faculties.
"When she had persuaded Bradley to take a seat, she turned to shower
her attentions on me. I jumped to one side, but she managed to grab
hold of my vest, and hence its buttonless condition. By this time
Bradley was on his feet again, and, having had the temerity to face
his jewel the second time, he again came off second best, losing one
of the button-holes of his collar in the melee. I rushed in from
behind, and flirtatiously, perhaps, tried to grab hold of her hands,
coming off the field minus a necktie, but plus that picturesque
scratch you see on my nose. Stopping a moment to count up my profit
and loss, I let Bradley make the next assault, which resulted in a
drawn battle, Bradley losing his watch and his temper, the jewel
losing her breath and her balance. So it went on for probably three
or four minutes longer, though we certainly acquired several years
of experience in those short minutes, until finally we managed to
conquer her. This done, we locked her up in a closet."
"Had she been at the cooking-sherry?" asked Bessie.
"We thought so at first, and Bradley sent for a policeman," said
Thaddeus "but when he came we found the poor creature too exhausted
to be moved, and in a very short while Mrs. Bradley decided that it
was a case for a doctor and not for a police-justice. So the doctor
was summoned, and we waited, dinnerless, in the dining-room for his
verdict, and finally it came. BRADLEY'S JEWEL WAS INSANE!"
"Insane!" echoed Bessie.
"Mad as a hatter," replied Thaddeus.
"Well, I declare!" said Bessie, thoughtfully. "But, Thaddeus, do
you know I am not surprised."
"Why, my dear?" he asked.
"Because, Teddy, she was too perfect to be in her right mind."
And Thaddeus, after thinking it all over, was inclined to believe
that Bessie was in the right.
"Yes, Bess, she was perfect--perfect in the way she did her work,
perfect in the way she smashed things, and nowhere did she more
successfully show the thoroughness with which she did everything
than when it came to removing the buttons from my vest. Isn't it
too bad that the only perfect servant that ever lived should turn
out to be a hopeless maniac? But I must hurry off, or I'll miss my
train."
"You are not going down to town to-day?" asked Bessie.
"To-day, above all other days, am I going down," returned Thaddeus.
"I am enough of a barbarian to be unwilling to lose the chance of
seeing Bradley, and asking him how he and his jewel get along."
"Thaddeus!"
"Why not, my dear?"
"It would be too mean for anything."
"Well, perhaps you are right. I guess I won't. But he has rubbed
it into me so much about our domestics that I hate to lose the
chance to hit back."
"Has he?" said Bessie, her face flushing indignantly, and, it may be
added, becomingly. "In that case, perhaps, you might--ha! ha!--
perhaps you might telegraph and ask him."
And Thaddeus did so. As yet he has received no reply.