Various things had happened, however, before this morning of the great
day was reached, and Mr. Twist had had some harassing experiences.
One of the first things he had done after the visit to Los Angeles was
to take steps in the matter of the guardianship. He had written to Mrs.
Bilton that he was the Miss Twinklers' guardian, though it was not at
that moment true. It was clear, he thought, that it should be made true
as quickly as possible, and he therefore sought out a lawyer in Acapulco
the morning after the interview. This was not the same lawyer who did
his estate business for him; Mr. Twist thought it best to have a
separate one for more personal affairs.
On hearing Mr. Twist's name announced, the lawyer greeted him as an old
friend. He knew, of course, all about the teapot, for the Non-Trickler
was as frequent in American families as the Bible and much more
regularly used; but he also knew about the cottage at the foot of the
hills, what it had cost--which was little--and what it would cost--which
was enormous--before it was fit to live in. The only thing he didn't
know was that it was to be used for anything except an ordinary
_pied-à-terre_. He had heard, too, of the presence at the Cosmopolitan
of the twins, and on this point, like the rest of Acapulco, was a little
curious.
The social column of the Acapulco daily paper hadn't been able to give
any accurate description of the relationship of the Twinklers to Mr.
Twist. Its paragraph announcing his arrival had been obliged merely to
say, while awaiting more detailed information, that Mr. Edward A. Twist,
the well-known Breakfast Table Benefactor and gifted inventor of the
famous Non-Trickler Teapot, had arrived from New York and was staying at
the Cosmopolitan Hotel with _entourage_; and the day after this the
lawyer, who got about a bit, as everybody else did in that encouraging
climate, happening to look in at the Cosmopolitan to have a talk with a
friend, had seen the _entourage_.
It was in the act of passing through the hall on its way upstairs,
followed by a boy carrying a canary in a cage. Even without the boy and
the canary it was a conspicuous object. The lawyer asked his friend who
the cute little girls were, and was interested to hear he was beholding
Mr. Edward A. Twist's _entourage_. His friend told him that opinion in
the hotel was divided about the precise nature of this _entourage_ and
its relationship to Mr. Twist, but it finally came to be generally
supposed that the Miss Twinklers had been placed in his charge by
parents living far away in order that he might safely see them put to
one of the young ladies' finishing schools in that agreeable district.
The house Mr. Twist was taking was not connected in the Cosmopolitan
mind with the Twinklers. Houses were always being taken in that paradise
by wealthy persons from unkinder climates. He would live in it three
months in the year, thought the Cosmopolitan, bring his mother, and keep
in this way an occasional eye on his charges. The hotel guests regarded
the Twinklers at this stage with nothing but benevolence and goodwill,
for they had up to then only been seen and not heard; and as one of
their leading characteristics was a desire to explain, especially if
anybody looked a little surprised, which everybody usually did quite
early in conversation with them, this was at that moment, the delicate
moment before Mrs. Bilton's arrival, fortunate.
The lawyer, then, who appreciated the young and pretty as much as other
honest men, began the interview with Mr. Twist by warmly congratulating
him, when he heard what he had come for, on his taste in wards.
Mr. Twist received this a little coldly, and said it was not a matter of
taste but of necessity. The Miss Twinklers were orphans, and he had been
asked--he cleared his throat--asked by their relatives, by, in fact,
their uncle in England, to take over their guardianship and see that
they came to no harm.
The lawyer nodded intelligently, and said that if a man had wards at all
they might as well be cute wards.
Mr. Twist didn't like this either, and said briefly that he had had no
choice.
The lawyer said, "Quite so. Quite so," and continued to look at him
intelligently.
Mr. Twist then explained that he had come to him rather than, as might
have been more natural, to the solicitor who had arranged the purchase
of the cottage because this was a private and personal matter--
"Quite so. Quite so," interrupted the lawyer, with really almost too
much intelligence.
Mr. Twist felt the excess of it, and tried to look dignified, but the
lawyer was bent on being friendly and frank. Friendliness was natural to
him when visited for the first time by a new client, and that there
should be frankness between lawyers and clients he considered essential.
If, he held, the client wouldn't be frank, then the lawyer must be; and
he must go on being so till the client came out of his reserve.
Mr. Twist, however, was so obstinate in his reserve that the lawyer
cheerfully and unhesitatingly jumped to the conclusion that the
_entourage_ must have some very weak spots about it somewhere.
"There's another way out of it of course, Mr. Twist," he said, when he
had done rapidly describing the different steps to be taken. There were
not many steps. The process of turning oneself into a guardian was
surprisingly simple and swift.
"Out of it?" said Mr. Twist, his spectacles looking very big and
astonished. "Out of what?"
"Out of your little difficulty. I wonder it hasn't occurred to you. Upon
my word now, I do wonder."
"But I'm not in any little diff--" began Mr. Twist.
"The elder of these two girls, now--"
"There isn't an elder," said Mr. Twist.
"Come, come," said the lawyer patiently, waiting for him to be sensible.
"There isn't an elder," repeated Mr. Twist, "They're twins."
"Twins, are they? Well I must say we manage to match up our twins better
than that over here. But come now--hasn't it occurred to you you might
marry one of them, and so become quite naturally related to them both?"
Mr. Twist's spectacles seemed to grow gigantic.
"Marry one of them?" he repeated, his mouth helplessly opening.
"Yep," said the lawyer, giving him a lead in free-and-easiness.
"Look here," said Mr. Twist suddenly gathering his mouth together, "cut
that line of joke out. I'm here on serious business. I haven't come to
be facetious. Least of all about those children--"
"Quite so, quite so," interrupted the lawyer pleasantly. "Children, you
call them. How old are they? Seventeen? My wife was sixteen when we
married. Oh quite so, quite so. Certainly. By all means. Well then,
they're to be your wards. And you don't want it known how recently
they've become your wards--"
"I didn't say that," said Mr. Twist.
"Quite so, quite so. But it's your wish, isn't it. The relationship is
to look as grass-grown as possible. Well, I shall be dumb of course, but
most things get into the press here. Let me see--" He pulled a sheet
of paper towards him and took up his fountain pen. "Just oblige me with
particulars. Date of birth. Place of birth. Parentage--"
He looked up ready to write, waiting for the answers.
None came.
"I can't tell you off hand," said Mr. Twist presently, his forehead
puckered.
"Ah," said the lawyer, laying down his pen. "Quite so. Not known your
young friends long enough yet."
"I've known them quite long enough," said Mr. Twist stiffly, "but we
happen to have found more alive topics of conversation than dates and
parents."
"Ah. Parents not alive."
"Unfortunately they are not. If they were, these poor children wouldn't
be knocking about in a strange country."
"Where would they be?" asked the lawyer, balancing his pen across his
forefinger.
Mr. Twist looked at him very straight. Vividly he remembered his
mother's peculiar horror when he told her the girls he was throwing away
his home life for and breaking her heart over were Germans. It had acted
upon her like the last straw. And since then he had felt everywhere,
with every one he talked to, in every newspaper he read, the same strong
hostility to Germans, so much stronger than when he left America the
year before.
Mr. Twist began to perceive that he had been impetuous in this matter of
the guardianship. He hadn't considered it enough. He suddenly saw
innumerable difficulties for the twins and for The Open Arms if it was
known it was run by Germans. Better abandon the guardianship idea than
that such difficulties should arise. He hadn't thought; he hadn't had
time properly to think; he had been so hustled and busy the last few
days....
"They come from England," he said, looking at the lawyer very straight.
"Ah," said the lawyer.
Mr. Twist wasn't going to lie about the twins, but merely, by evading,
he hoped to put off the day when their nationality would be known.
Perhaps it never would be known; or if known, known later on when
everybody, as everybody must who knew them, loved them for themselves
and accordingly wouldn't care.
"Quite so," said the lawyer again, nodding. "I asked because I overheard
them talking the other day as they passed through the hall of your
hotel. They were talking about a canary. The r in the word seemed a
little rough. Not quite English, Mr. Twist? Not quite American?"
"Not quite," agreed Mr. Twist. "They've been a good deal abroad."
"Quite so. At school, no doubt."
He was silent a moment, intelligently balancing his pen on his
forefinger.
"Then these particulars," he went on, looking up at Mr. Twist,--"could
you let me have them soon? I tell you what. You're in a hurry to fix
this. I'll call round to-night at the hotel, and get them direct from
your young friends. Save time. And make me acquainted with a pair of
charming girls."
"No," said Mr. Twist. He got on to his feet and held out his hand. "Not
to-night. We're engaged to-night. To-morrow will be soon enough. I'll
send round. I'll let you know. I believe I'm going to think it over a
bit. There isn't any such terrible hurry, anyhow."
"There isn't? I understood--"
"I mean, a day or two more or less don't figure out at much in the long
run."
"Quite so, quite so," said the lawyer, getting up too. "Well, I'm always
at your service, at any time." And he shook hands heartily with Mr.
Twist and politely opened the door for him.
Then he went back to his writing-table more convinced than ever that
there was something very weak somewhere about the _entourage_.
As for Mr. Twist, he perceived he had been a fool. Why had he gone to
the lawyer at all? Why not simply have announced to the world that he
was the Twinkler guardian? The twins themselves would have believed it
if he had come in one day and said it was settled, and nobody outside
would ever have dreamed of questioning it. After all, you couldn't see
if a man was a guardian or not just by looking at him. Well, he would do
no more about it, it was much too difficult. Bother it. Let Mrs. Bilton
go on supposing he was the legal guardian of her charges. Anyway he had
all the intentions of a guardian. What a fool he had been to go to the
lawyer. Curse that lawyer. Now he knew, however distinctly and
frequently he, Mr. Twist, might say he was the Twinkler guardian, that
he wasn't.
It harassed Mr. Twist to perceive, as he did perceive with clearness,
that he had been a fool; but the twins, when he told them that evening
that owing to technical difficulties, with the details of which he
wouldn't trouble them, the guardianship was off, were pleased.
"We want to be bound to you," said Anna-Felicitas her eyes very soft and
her voice very gentle, "only by ties of affection and gratitude."
And Anna-Rose, turning red, opened her mouth as though she were going to
say something handsome like that too, but seemed unable after all to get
it out, and only said, rather inaudibly, "Yes."