A DINNER IN A DRESS SUIT.
On his way Will passed the ladies’ restaurant, and noted the handsome
toilets of its occupants with something of a shock. Mrs. Williams
would doubtless be elaborately gowned that evening, and of course he
ought to be in full dress also. What an absurd situation to confront
a poor country boy, who had been so proud of the new suit the Bingham
tailor had provided him with! Will Carden in a “swallow-tail!” The very
thought made him smile--and then shudder. Whatever should he do?
The gentlemen’s lunch room was rather full, but the courteous usher
asked permission of a guest who sat at a small table in one corner, and
then seated Will opposite him.
The gentleman was reading a newspaper, and merely glanced at the
new arrival. Will could see that he had a big, impressive figure, a
close-cropped beard of iron gray, and an expression upon his face that
was grave yet kindly.
Having made this cursory inspection, he gave his simple order to
the waiter and then relapsed into moody abstraction. That dreadful
dress-suit haunted him like some malignant demon. If he made an excuse
to cancel the engagement Mrs. Williams would be offended; if he
appeared in his ordinary clothes she would be more offended still. And
now that she had begun to treat him with some slight consideration he
disliked to do anything to forfeit her respect or good will.
“Something disagreeable, sir?” asked a pleasant voice.
The gentleman had lain down his paper and was engaged in eating his
luncheon. As he spoke he glanced at Will with a smile, which the boy
returned, feeling rather ashamed of his depression because of so
trivial a matter.
“Something quite disagreeable, as you observe, sir,” he answered.
“You are an American?”
“Yes, sir. And you?”
A shadow crossed the gentleman’s face.
“Formerly I lived in the States. But I am quite English, now, although
I have never ceased to love my native land. That is why I ventured to
speak to a young man who is so evidently an American. Can I be of any
assistance to you?”
Will laughed.
“To be frank with you, my tribulation is caused merely by a lack of a
dress suit,” said he. “I must dine with a lady--a very ‘swell’ lady,
sir--tonight, and I possess only the clothes you behold.”
“You have lost your baggage?”
“No, sir; I never have owned a dress suit. Indeed, these are the best
clothes I have, and had not the lady asked me to dine with her I should
have considered them equal to all my requirements.”
“What part of America are you from?”
“A little town called Bingham.”
The man gave a sudden start, and moved his lips as if about to speak.
But no words came, and closing his jaws firmly together, as if to
repress the impulse, he leaned back in his chair and gazed at Will with
a look that was more pathetic than curious.
The boy scarcely noticed the interruption. He rambled on, explaining
that he was sent abroad on business by a Mr. Williams, and was only
staying in London to see the wife of his employer aboard the steamer on
her way home. It was cruel, he protested, for her to ask him to dine
with her in a fashionable hotel, knowing as she did his station in
life, and still more cruel to ask him to appear in a dress suit.
Of all this, and much more, he talked as he ate his luncheon, and the
gentleman listened in grave silence, but most attentively.
After the meal was finished he asked:
“Have you money?”
“Yes, sir; plenty.”
“Then I believe I shall be able to relieve your embarrassment, if you
will walk with me a few doors down the street.”
“I shall be very grateful, sir.”
The gentleman arose to leave the café, and Will noticed that the
waiters and ushers all bowed with profound deference as he passed out.
But that was not singular. The most careless observer could not fail to
be impressed by his new friend’s dignified bearing.
On the street he nodded to several acquaintances and tipped his hat
gracefully to a lady who rode by in a handsome equipage. Will was quite
proud of his companion, who was evidently a person of importance.
But now they turned into a fashionable tailor shop, and the proprietor
was bowing and scraping most humbly before the gray-haired gentleman,
who beckoned him aside.
Will did not hear the conversation that ensued, but the tailor rubbed
his hands together complacently and nodded so often that the boy
wondered he did not dislocate his neck.
“He will fit you out, all right, and send you the suit in ample time,”
said the gentleman, returning to Will’s side. “And now, if there is no
way I can be of further assistance to you, permit me to bid you good
day.”
“Thank you very much, sir.”
With a smile and nod the man was gone, and now the obsequious tailor
was inviting him to stand upon a pedestal to be measured. Evidently
the fellow had received definite instructions what to do, for he asked
no questions except where to send the clothes, and declared again and
again that they would be delivered by six o’clock.
Will passed the rest of the afternoon looking up steamship offices and
enquiring about sailings to New York. Mrs. Williams had said he could
do this tomorrow, but he preferred to attend to the matter at once. He
finally selected a steamer that sailed the next Saturday, which would
give the lady ample time to prepare for the trip, and having made the
booking he returned to his hotel to await with considerable anxiety the
approach of the eventful evening.
At six o’clock a large parcel was delivered to his room, and upon
opening it he found not only his new full-dress suit, but the
accompanying linen, the proper tie, and everything else that he might
need. His chance acquaintance had proved a veritable magician, for even
to one of Will’s inexperience it was evident such an outfit could only
be procured upon short notice by means of considerable influence.
The bill that lay in the bottom of the box startled him at first; but,
had he known it, it was remarkably small for the amount and quality of
the goods it covered.
From his observations during the voyage across, and his three days in
London, Will Carden was not ignorant of what was required in society in
the way of evening dress, and the outfit before him permitted little
chance of mistake. He dressed himself very carefully, finding that
each article fitted admirably; and when all was accomplished he spent
several minutes gazing wonderingly at his own reflection in the long
mirror.
He reached the pink salon a little ahead of his engagement, and Mrs.
Williams was a little behind hers; so the interval gave him time to
regain his composure. He found several gentlemen present who were
dressed exactly like himself, and that made him feel almost at ease by
the time Mrs. Williams appeared.
She wore a handsome evening dress of black net trimmed with jet, and
many brilliant gems sparkled upon her neck and hands. After the first
enquiring glance at her escort she smiled approvingly, for Will looked
very proper and handsome in her critical worldly eyes and it was an
agreeable experience to have a nice looking young man at her side.
They found a small table awaiting them in the restaurant, where
the scene was so brilliant that it filled our youth with surprise.
Handsomely gowned ladies were present in profusion, and the soft glow
of the rose-shaded lights on rich glass and napery made a beautiful
picture not easily forgotten by one unaccustomed to such luxuries.
Will noticed, as he seated himself, that at a neighboring table his
friend of the afternoon was dining with two male companions, all in
prescribed evening dress. The gentleman saw him, and returned his bow
with a pleasant smile.
Mrs. Williams maintained a flow of social small talk that Will was
scarcely able to understand, and surely could make little reply to. But
she did not seem to expect him to converse, except in monosyllables,
so he assumed an air of respectful attention to her remarks and let
his thoughts and eyes wander amid his novel surroundings. He neither
knew nor cared what food was being served, for he seemed to be in a
fairyland, and the merry hum of voices, the soft strains of music,
the silent rush of the waiters and the atmosphere of sensuous comfort
pervading the magnificent arched room all tended to bewilder his mind
and render him indifferent to the commonplace occupation of eating.
Presently a lady detached herself from a group of diners and came
to their table to greet Mrs. Williams, who seemed to be an old
acquaintance. After acknowledging Will’s polite bow on his introduction
the lady ignored him and seated herself in a vacant chair beside Mrs.
Williams, beginning a brisk conversation which soon drifted into gossip
about those present.
“I suppose you know very few of our London notables,” she said, “having
passed so much of your time on the Continent. The lady in lavender at
the third table to your right is the Duchess of M----; and just behind
her is Lady Mary K----, whose divorce suit you have doubtless read of.
And do you see those gentlemen at a table by the pillar yonder? They
are well worth attention. The one with the moustache is Prince Von
D----, and the plain-faced man is Mr. Ashkam, the great London banker.
The third, with the gray hair and beard, is the head of the Atlas Steel
works, the famous John Carden, who is reputed one of the wealthiest
manufacturers in the United Kingdom. Next to them----”
Will’s fork fell from his hand, clattering against his plate with a
sound so startling that it attracted many eyes in his direction.
Trembling violently, and with a white face, he was staring at the man
pointed out as John Carden, who returned the look with astonishment.
“Excuse me--I--I am ill--I cannot stay here!” he stammered, in a low
voice; and rising hurriedly, regardless of Mrs. Williams’ shocked
expression, he staggered from the room.
The gentleman hastily followed. He found Will in the dimly lighted
ante-room, where the boy stood wringing his hands in an agony of
nervous excitement. Seeing the man he rushed toward him at once,
saying:
[Illustration: Trembling violently, he stared at the man
pointed out as John Carden. Page 186.]
“John Carden! Are you really John Carden?”
“Yes.”
“John Carden of Bingham?”
“Yes,” repeated the other, seizing Will’s outstretched hands; “once of
Bingham.”
“Then I am your son!” cried the boy, with a sob. “I am Will Carden.”