After a while we talked again, and explained all the cross-purposes to
each other, with the most interesting pauses in between the
explanations. And Jack told me about himself, and Miss Paget.
It seems that her only sister was his mother, and she had been in love
with his father before he met the sister. The father's name was Claud,
and Jack was named after him. It was Miss Paget's favourite name,
because of the man she had loved. But the first Claud wasn't very lucky.
He lost all his own money and most of his wife's, and died in South
America, where he'd gone in the hope of making more. Then the wife,
Jack's mother, died too, while he was at Eton. After that Miss Paget's
house was his home. Whenever he was extravagant at Oxford, as he was
sometimes, she would pay his debts quite happily, and tell him that
everything she had would be his some day, so he was not to bother about
money. Accordingly, he didn't bother, but lived rather a lazy life--so
he said--and enjoyed himself. A couple of years before I met him he got
interested, through a friend, in a newly invented motor, which they both
thought would be a wonderful success. Jack tried to get his aunt
interested, too, but she didn't like the friend who had invented
it--seemed jealous of Jack's affection for him--and refused to have
anything to do with the affair. Jack had gone so far, however, while
taking her consent for granted, that he felt bound to go on; and when
Miss Paget would have nothing to do with floating the new invention,
Jack sold out the investments of his own little fortune (all that was
left of his mother's money), putting everything at his friend's
disposal. Miss Paget was disgusted with him for doing this, and when the
motor wouldn't mote and the invention wouldn't float, she just said, "I
told you so!"
It was at this time, Jack went on to tell me, that Miss Paget bought
Beau. She had had another dog, given her by Jack, which died, and she
collected Beau herself. Only a few days after Beau's arrival, Jack went
down into the country to see his aunt and talk things over; for she had
brought him up to expect to be her heir; and as she wanted him with her
continually, as if he had been her son, she had objected to his taking
up any profession. Now that he'd lost his own money in this unfortunate
speculation, he felt he ought to do something not to be dependent upon
her, his income of two hundred a year having been sunk with the
unfloatable motor invention. He meant to ask Miss Paget to lend him
enough to go in as partner with another friend, who had a very thriving
motor business, and to suggest paying her back so much a year. But
everything was against him on that visit to his aunt's country house.
In the first place, she was in a very bad humour with him, because he
had gone against her wishes, and she didn't want to hear anything more
about motors or motor business. Then, there was Beau, as a _tertium
quid_.
Beau had been bought from a dreadful man who had probably stolen, and
certainly ill-treated him. The dog was very young, and owing to his late
owner's cruelty, feared and hated the sight of a man. Since she had had
him Miss Paget had done her very best to spoil the poor animal,
encouraging him to growl at the men-servants, and laughing when he
frightened away any male creature who had come about the place. While
she and Jack were arguing over money and motors, who should stroll in
but Beau, who at sight of a stranger--a man--closeted with his indulgent
mistress, flew into a rage. He seized Jack by the trouser-leg and began
to worry it, and Jack had to choke him before the dog would let go his
grip.
The sight of this dreadful deed threw Miss Paget into hysterics. She
shrieked that her nephew was cruel, ungrateful--that he had never loved
her, that he cared only for her money, and now that he grudged her the
affection of a dog with which _he_ had had nothing to do; that the dog's
dislike for him was a warning to her, and made her see him in his true
light at last. "Go--go--out of my sight--or I'll set my poor darling at
you!" she cried, and Jack went, after saying several rather frank
things.
At heart he was fond of his aunt, in spite of her eccentricities, and
believed that she was of him, therefore he expected a letter of apology
for her injustice and a request to come back. But no such letter ever
arrived. Perhaps Miss Paget thought it was _his_ place to apologize, and
was waiting for him to do so. In any case, they had never seen each
other again; and after a few weeks, Jack received a formal note from
his aunt's solicitor saying that, as she realized now he had "no real
affection for her or _hers_" he need look for no future advantages from
her, but was at liberty to take up any line of business he chose. Miss
Paget would "no longer attempt to interfere with his wishes or direct
his affairs."
This must have been a pleasant letter for a penniless young man, just
robbed of all his future prospects. His own money gone, and no hope of
any to put into a profession or business! Jack lived as he could for
some months, trying for all sorts of positions, making a few guineas by
sketches and motoring articles for newspapers, and somehow contriving to
keep out of debt. He went to France to "write up" a great automobile
race, as a special commission; but the paper which had given the
commission--a new one devoted to the interests of motoring--suddenly
failed. Jack found himself stranded; advertised for a position as
chauffeur, and got it. There was the history which he "hadn't inflicted
on me before, lest I should be bored."
He was interested to hear of Miss Paget's journey to Italy, and knew all
about the cousin who had died, leaving her money which she didn't need,
and a castle in Italy which she didn't want. He laughed when I told him
how the redoubtable Simpkins refused to trust herself upon that "great
nasty wet thing," which was the Channel: but nothing could hold his
attention firmly except _our_ affairs. For his affairs and my affairs
were not separate any longer. They were joined together for weal or woe.
Whatever happened, however imprudent the step might be, he decided that
we must be married. We loved each other; each was the other's world, and
nothing must part us. Besides, said Jack, I needed a protector. I had no
home, and he could not have me persecuted by creatures who produced Corn
Plasters. His idea was to take me to England at once, and have me there
promptly made Mrs. John Dane, by special licence. He had a few pounds,
and a few things which he could sell would bring in a few more. Then,
with me for an incentive, he should get something to do that was worth
doing.
I said "Yes" to everything, and Jack darted away to converse with a nice
man he had met in the garage, who had a motor, and was going to Paris
almost immediately. If he had not gone yet, perhaps he would take us.
Luckily he had not gone, and he did take us. He took us to the Gare du
Nord, where we would just have time to eat something, and catch the boat
train for Calais. We should be in London in the morning, and Jack would
apply for a special licence as early as possible.
I stood guarding our humble heap of luggage, while Jack spent his
hard-earned sovereigns for our tickets, when suddenly I heard a voice
which sounded vaguely familiar. It was broken with distress and
excitement; still I felt sure I had heard it before, and turned quickly,
exclaiming "Miss Paget!"
There she was, with a dressing bag in one hand, and a broken dog-leash
in the other. Tears were running down her fat face (not so fat as it had
been) under spectacles, and her false front was put on anyhow.
"Oh, my dear girl!" she wailed, without showing the slightest sign of
astonishment at sight of me. "What a mercy you've turned up, but it's
just like you. Have you seen my Beau anywhere?"
"No," I said, rather stiffly, for I couldn't forgive her or her dog for
their treatment of my Jack.
"Oh, dear, what shall I do!" she exclaimed. "He hates railway stations.
You can't think the awful time we've had since you left me in the train
at Cannes. And now he's broken his leash, and run away, and I can't
speak any French, except to ask for hot water in Italian, and I don't
see how I'm going to find my darling again. They'll snatch him up, to
fling him into some terrible, murderous waggon, and take him to a lethal
home, or whatever they call it. For heaven's sake, go and ask everybody
where he is--and if you find him you can have anything on earth I've
got, especially my Italian castle which I can't sell. You can come to
England with me and Beau, when you've got him, and I'll make you happy
all the rest of your life. Oh, go--_do_ go. I'll look after your
luggage."
"It's half your own nephew's, Jack Dane's, luggage," said I, breathless
and pulsing. "I'm going to England with him, and _he's_ going to make me
happy all the rest of my life, for we mean to be married, in spite of
your cruelty which has made him poor, and turned him into a chauffeur.
But--here he comes now. And--why, Miss Paget, there's _Beau_ walking
with him, without any leash. Beau must remember him."
"Beau with Jack Dane!" gasped the old lady. "Jack Dane's found Beau?
_Beau's_ forgiven him! Then so will I. You can both have the Italian
castle--and everything that goes with it. And everything else that's
mine, too, except Beau."
"Hello, aunt, here's your dog," said Jack.
Beau licked his foot.
* * * * *
Transcriber's note:
In converting this book the following evident typographical
errors were corrected, causing differences from the original:
p. 65, correct spelling of "Gaspard de Besse";
p. 79, correct accent in "Hyères";
p. 102, correct spelling of "Le Buisson Ardent";
p. 140, insert t in "At first";
p. 291, change "be began" to "he began."