In Paris Geraldine's mother suggested that, as I was paying a visit to
London, I could bring Geraldine out with me on the return journey. She also
suggested that I might bring out a new hat for her (Geraldine's mother) at
the same time. Though being in love neither with Geraldine's mother nor
with Geraldine's mother's hat I had to take kindly to both, to further my
dark designs with regard to Geraldine.
In London I inspected the hat, complete in box. It was immediately obvious
that it and I could never make the journey to Paris together. The sight of
me carrying a hat-box at the early hour of 8 A.M. on Victoria Station would
have put Geraldine off. Geraldine is very pretty, but she is like that.
On reflection, the transport of the hat from London to Paris seemed to me
to be a matter eminently suited to the machinery of our Foreign Office.
Though the Foreign Officer is as formidable as a Bishop in his own
cathedral, he is, to those who persist in knowing him personally, a man
much like oneself, fond of his glass of beer, ready to exchange one good
turn for another. It happens that I have assisted the F.O. to make peace
much as I have helped the W.O. to make war. In the sacred precincts I
reminded my friend of this fact, and impressed upon him that the
consolidation of the _entente_ between Geraldine and myself was one of the
most urgent political matters of the day. He was undiplomatic enough to ask
how he could help ...
I don't want you to lose your awe of Diplomatic Bags, but there have been
occasions when the Secret and Confidential Despatch consists of little more
than a personal note from one strong silent man to another, touching on
such domestic subjects as, say, a relative's hat. It was eventually, if
arduously, arranged that in this instance the despatch should consist of
the hat itself ...
My fascinating manner of greeting Geraldine on Victoria Station did not
betray the fact that I had seen that arch-villain, George Nesbitt,
installed in our train, looking terribly important. George doesn't want to
marry any girl; every girl therefore wants to marry George. I managed to
hustle Geraldine into our carriage and get her locked in without her seeing
George. But George had seen her, and, not knowing that he doesn't want to
marry any girl and thinking that he wants to marry every girl, he firmly
convinced himself (I have no doubt) that he was passionately in love with
Geraldine as he travelled down to Folkestone in his lonely splendour.
On the Channel boat ... but perhaps it is fairer to all parties to omit
that part.
At Boulogne I became inextricably mixed up with the Customs' people;
Geraldine meanwhile got inevitably associated with George Nesbitt. She
would, of course. Indeed, when at last I scrambled to the Paris train, with
the cord of my pyjamas trailing from my kit-bag, there was Geraldine
installed in George's special carriage, very sympathetically studying
George's passport, wherein all Foreign Powers, great, small and medium-
sized, were invited in red ink to regard George as It.
George informed me that, being a King's Messenger, he was afraid he dare
not trust me, as a mere member of the public, to travel in the same
carriage as the Diplomatic Bag. I said I must stay with them and keep an
eye on Geraldine. George said that he would do that. In that case, I said,
I would stay and keep an eye on the Diplomatic Bag. Geraldine being at one
end of the carriage and the bag being at the other end George could not
very well keep an eye on both. The possibility of George's eyes wandering
apart when he was off his guard made a fleeting impression on Geraldine in
my favour. I stayed.
George then set about to make the most of himself. Geraldine abetted.
Geraldine is a terror. I became more determined than ever to marry her,
George and the KING notwithstanding. George however got going. "For a plain
fellow like myself" (he knows how confoundedly handsome he is) "it has been
some little satisfaction to be selected as a Special Courier."
I explained the method of selection as I guessed it. "He forced his way
into the F.O. and in an obsequious tone, which you and I, Geraldine, would
be ashamed to adopt, begged for the favour of a bag to carry with him. If
the KING had known about it he would rather have sent his messages by
post."
"The general public," said George to Geraldine, "is apt to be very noisy
and tiresome on railway journeys, is it not?"
Geraldine acquiesced. She doesn't often do that, but when she does it is
extremely pleasant for the acquiescee. I pressed on with my explanation
desperately. "I can hear poor old George pleading in a broken voice that he
had to get to Paris and dared not go by himself. So they listened to his
sad story and gave him a bag to see him through, and it isn't George who is
taking the bag to Paris, but the bag which is taking George." To prevent
him arguing I told Geraldine that you can tell a real K.M. by his Silver
Greyhound badge, which he'll show you if you doubt him, just as you can
tell a stockbroker by his pearl tie-pin, which you can see for yourself.
This put George on his mettle.
"To think that to me are entrusted messages which may alter the map of
Europe and change the history of the world! But I mustn't let my conceit
run away with me, must I?" Positively I believe Geraldine at that began to
play with the idea of doing what George said he mustn't let his conceit do.
Anyhow I had half-an-hour to myself while she listened to the inner
histories of European Courts and flirted with the Bearer of Despatches. I
was left gazing at the bag.
There was only one bag, but it was very bulky. The contents were a tight
fit; something round, about a yard in diameter, about a foot and a half in
depth.
"Are you looking after this bag of yours properly, George?" I asked. "We
shall be very angry with you if you go and lose it." Something indefinable
but intensely important in my tone caught Geraldine's attention.
"That is between me and the F.O.," said George irritably.
"When I was talking to them about it--" said I.
"What have you to do with the Foreign Office?" asked Geraldine.
"Little enough," I said modestly. "I have my own business to see to. But
the F.O. have always wanted to have something to do with me. So I gave them
the job of looking after your mother's hat. Had I known that they would
send it along by any Tom, Dick or George who happened to drop in and offer
to take the bag--"
George snatched the bag, examined it hastily and then tried to conceal it
behind his own luggage. But Geraldine knows enough about hats to be able to
spot a hatbox, when put to it, through all the heavy canvas and all the
fancy labels in the world. So there was nothing more to be said about it;
and there was little more to be done about it except for George to go on
doing special messenger with it. The inner histories died down and, after a
brief silence, George affected to go to sleep.
I only woke him up once and that was to ask whether he cared to look after
the rest of my luggage for me.
When we got to Paris I explained to George that I had not meant to hurt his
feelings; there was no fellow I would more gladly entrust my odd jobs to.
Indeed Geraldine and I should want him to officiate in a similar capacity
at the coming ceremony.
A very satisfactory conclusion. I got Geraldine; Geraldine got her full
deserts--me; and if George had the misfortune to sit on the bag in the
taxi, what matter? Geraldine had acquiesced; after that who cared what
Geraldine's mother did, said, thought or wore?
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Small Boy_. "WHO'S THAT FAT MAN, DAD?"
_Dad_. "DON'T KNOW. HE LOOKS LIKE A PROFITEER."
_Small Boy_. "DON'T YOU THINK HE MUST BE ONE OF THE EXCESS PROFITEERS?"]
* * * * *
"Lady Clerk wanted for office work, with an engineering firm, a few
miles out of Leeds; also able to cook and serve a luncheon for the
principals."--_Yorkshire Paper._
If you want a cook nowadays you must employ a little diplomacy.
* * * * *
"During a discussion on over-crowded motor 'buses a member declared
that on one occasion 110 persons were found 'clinging like bees' to a
car certified to hold 0."--_Provincial Paper._
Some of these might have been accommodated in the bonnet.
* * * * *
"In Nepal His Highness shot what is believed to be the record tigress.
She was a most magnificent specimen, with a total length of 9 feet 7
inches--her body alone measuring 9 feet 5 inches."--_Indian Paper._
The record, of course, consisted in the brevity of her two-inch tail.
* * * * *
From Smith Minor's Scripture-paper:
"Abraham was the man who was very keen to go into the land of Israel
but he did not obey the word of the Lord, and the Lord's punishment to
him was to forbid him to go into this land. There he sat on the heights
of Abraham looking down on this land."