THE OLD UN ADVISES AND RAVENSLEE ACTS
In the rose garden was an arbour smothered in riotous bloom, and in the
arbour was a divan, wide and low and voluptuously soft, meet for the
repose of an invalid on a languorous afternoon, or indeed any other
time. But just now the invalid reposed not at all but sat, elbow on knee
and square chin on fist, very lonely and therefore very grim.
All about him roses bloomed, filling the air with their sweetness, but
he had no eyes for their beauty; upon the table within reach of his hand
were books and magazines, but he was in no mood for reading; clasped
between strong white teeth he held his favourite pipe unlighted and
cold, for tobacco had for him no savour. So he sat and scowled at the
universe in general, and in particular at a robin that had boldly
ventured near and was regarding him with a very round, bright eye.
"She's avoiding me!" said Ravenslee bitterly, teeth clenched upon his
pipestem, "there's no doubt about it, damn it; she's avoiding me! And
she's not happy here either!"
The robin turned his head to regard the speaker with his other eye, then
fluttered his wings and flew away as the lazy quiet of the afternoon was
broken by the squeak of shoe leather, and glancing up, Ravenslee beheld
the Old Un.
"What cheer, Guv," said he, "greetin's doo and how's the invalid?"
"Invalid!" repeated Ravenslee, scowling again, "I'm no invalid!"
"Spoke like a true-bred gamecock, s' help me!"
"I'm as right as rain physically, Old Un, but--"
"Talkin' o' physic, Guv," said the old man, seating himself and nodding
brightly, "talkin' o' physic, the physic as set you on your pins again
was love, Guv, love!"
"But it so happens--"
"Wait a bit, I ain't done, Guv! 'Ere 's me, a old cove as 'as lived
'ears an' 'ears an' 'ears an' 'ears longer 'n you, so nacherally I'm a
powerful lot fuller o' th' wisdom o' life than you, specially in matters
o' th' 'eart, Guv. Now me, 'avin' 'elped you into th' matrimonial ring,
as you might say, 'ave took your 'appiness under my wing, an', Guv, I
don't like the way you're shapin'--"
"But you see--"
"'Old 'ard, Guv, let a pore old cove get a word in for a change. Now
there's you an' 'er, your fair young spouse, both up to each other's
weight, sound in wind an' limb an' meant for j'y--what I want is
t' see you come to a clinch! This ain't no time for sparrin' an'
out-fightin'--yet 'ere you are a-feintin' at each other from opposite
corners--"
"But--"
"'Arf a mo', Guv, 'arf a mo'--gimme a chance for a occasional word! An'
don't frown, Guv, don't frown at a pore old cove; y' see, there's jest
three blokes in this 'ard world as my old 'eart warms to, an' one on 'em
's Joe, an' t' other un 's you, an' t' other un 's 'er--which ain't a
bloke. Lord, Guv, what a soft armful o' beauty! 'Ow warm an' cuddlesome!
Oh, Guv, what a waist! What lips! What--"
"Old Un, for heaven's sake, shut up! D' you think I'm blind? D' you
think--"
"Guv, I dunno wot t' think! 'Ere 's you with your 'ead in your 'ands,
an' there's 'er sighin' an' sighin'--"
"Sighing? Where? When? Why--"
"Sighin' an' sighin', Guv, so soft an' pretty--I 'eard 'er! Also she
wep'--I seen 'er."
"Where?"
"An' 'er tears, Guv, them pearly tears went t' my 'eart--an' nobody t'
put a arm round that waist, nor kiss them sweet lips, nor soothe them
tears away--
"'Oh, alone she sat sighin' by a green willer tree,
With 'er 'and on 'er bosom, 'er 'ead on 'er knee,
Weepin' willer" willer, willer my garlan' shall be.'
"So, Guv, I ax you, man to man, why, oh, why are ye neglectin' your fair
young spouse? An', Guv, I only ax because your 'appiness an' 'ers is
mine--s' 'elp me!"
"How if it's the other way about, Old Un? Suppose she avoids me?"
"Why lumme, Guv! 'T is a sure sign she needs persoot. Remember this:
"'Im as would lovely woman woo
'E lovely woman must persoo,
For if 'e don't, 't is plain as plain
That feller 'e will woo in vain.'
"An', Guv, I've only took th' liberty o' sayin' this because my pore old
bowels yearns to ye--both on ye. Persoot's the word, Guv, per-soot!"
The Old Un nodded, rose, and creaked away, and Ravenslee, looking after
him, scowled no longer, but rising, sauntered across the trim garden to
where there was a lily pool and, leaning over the marble rim, stared
down into the placid water.
Now as the Old Un went his way, there met him a little girl, very neat
and tidy, who sang to herself in a small happy voice and tapped along on
a crutch; but beholding the Old Un, his dazzling shoes, his rakish hat,
she stood silent all at once, glancing up wistfully into that fierce,
battered old face.
"Lumme--crutches!" he exclaimed.
"No, please--only one, sir!" she answered, dropping him a little,
old-fashioned curtsey.
"Crikey!" said he, staring, "so young, so tender, an'--a game leg! A
little angel wi' a broke wing--lumme!"
So Age and Youth stared at each other and she, being a child, was quick
to heed that the eyes so bright beneath their hoary brows were kindly
eyes, and the smile upon the grim old mouth was very reassuring,
wherefore she smiled also.
"Only one crutch, sir," she repeated. "An' the doctor says as I won't
want it much longer, sir." Here, dropping another curtsey, she held up
for his acceptance a bunch of wild flowers.
"What--f' me, little maid?" he enquired.
"Yes, please, sir."
"Why bless--bless your lovin' little 'eart!" quavered the old man, and
stooped to touch her rosy cheek with a hand gnarled and scarred with
much hard punching, yet a very gentle hand indeed. "God bless that
little game leg, but pretty flowers 'ud be wasted on a old bloke like
me. You take 'em to th' Guv, see--over there--that tall chap leanin'
over th' pool. But first gimme a--a kiss instead, will ye, little lass?"
"I'd like to, sir."
And when the Old Un had kissed and been kissed right heartily, he
pointed to Ravenslee's distant, lounging figure, winked, nodded, and
squeaked away.
Thus it was that Ravenslee, absorbed in thought, was presently roused by
the quick light tapping of the little crutch and glanced up.
"Oh!" she cried softly; the flowers fell and lay neglected as, clasping
her hands, she stared up at him in radiant-eyed wonder.
"Welcome, Highness!" said he and bowed.
"Oh, it's the Prince--my dear Prince! Oh, Goody!" and she hastened
toward him, then stopped all at once, puzzled and abashed because of his
elegant attire. Perceiving which he reached out and drew her down by him
on the marble seat beside the pool.
"Why this sudden change of demeanour, Princess?" he enquired. "What's
the matter?"
"You're--you're so different, sir--so different an' grand in all them
cute clo'es, sir."
"Am I, dear? But I'm just the same inside, you know. And, for heaven's
sake, Princess, do not call me 'sir.'"
"But the big gentleman that belongs here an' has all these lovely
flowers an' everything--he says as I must always say 'sir.'"
"Big gentleman?"
"Yes, the big, soft gentleman with the cute little curls on his cheeks."
"Oh--him!" said Ravenslee, laughing suddenly. "Indeed a very just
description, Princess. But you don't have to worry about him any more;
he's gone."
"Gone? For good?"
"For very good indeed!"
"Doesn't all this beautiful, beautiful place belong t' him any more?"
"Never any more."
"Have you come here 'stead of him? Come t' stay?"
"Yes."
"An' can I pick a rose t' kiss sometimes?"
"As many as you like."
"Oh!" sighed the child rapturously, nestling within his arm, "isn't that
just--fine! I guess this sure is the Beautiful City of Perhaps, after
all!"
"I wonder?"
"Oh, but I'm sure it is--now th' gentleman's gone I just know it is!"
"What makes you so sure?"
"Everything! 'Cause you see, Prince, my daddy don't have t' be away all
day any more. An' mumsey don't have t' sew late, nights, any more. An'
when we came into the cute little house where we live--there was the
doll that says 'mamma' jest waitin' f' me. An' there was a big box o'
candies, an' a doll carriage with real rubber on th' wheels--jest like
we used to talk about. So you see this must be Perhaps at last, an' I'm
so--so happy--only--" Hazel sighed.
"Only what?"
"I do wish Hermy could find her way here too; she used t' be so tired
sometimes."
"You mean that you would like to find Princess Nobody, I guess."
"Oh, but I can't! I used to look an' look for her every day 'til th'
gentleman said she wasn't here, an' told me never t' come near th' big
house any more."
"But he's gone, and you never had me to help you."
"Oh, will you--will you help me right now?" she pleaded.
"Surest thing you know!" he nodded, "your hand, Princess."
So hand in hand he led her, suiting his long legs to hers, along shady
walks, up terrace steps, across smooth lawns, and so to the great house.
Hazel paused to question him further concerning "the gentleman", but
Ravenslee laughed and, seating her upon his shoulder, bore her into the
house.
In her housekeeper's room, surrounded by many dusty bill files and
stacks of account books, they presently found Mrs. Trapes, whose
hawk's-eye viewed bills and tradesmen's books while she frowned and
muttered such comments as "Rogues!" "Thieves!" "Scand'lous!" "Wicked!"
Until glancing up, her sharp features softened, and she smiled up into
the child's happy face.
"So Hazel's found ye, has she, Mr. Geoffrey. An' talkin' o' her, you've
sure made the Bowkers a happy fam'ly. But, my land, Mr. Ravenslee, the
scand'lous prices as th' tradespeople has been allowed t' charge you
these last six months! Here's th' butcher--listen t' this--"
"Heaven forbid, Mrs. Trapes! Rather let that butcher listen to you,
miserable wretch!"
"An' there's the milkman--that milkman's cows ought t' blush at th'
sound o' your name! Here's his accounts for the last six months, an' I've
found--"
"Have you, Mrs. Trapes? We're trying to find Hermione--where is she?"
"Oh, she's in her room--laying down, I guess."
"Not," enquired Ravenslee, "not--er--in bed, is she?"
"Mr. Geoffrey, I don't know; I'm busy. Go an' see for yourself--she's
your wife, ain't she?"
"Why, since you ask, I--er--hardly know," he answered a little ruefully,
"anyway, found she shall be."
With the child perched upon his shoulder he strode up-stairs and along
wide corridors whose deep carpets gave forth no sound, and so reached a
certain door. Here he hesitated a moment, then knocked with imperious
hand.
"Come in!" called that voice whose soft inflection had always thrilled
him, but never as it did now as, turning the handle, he entered his
wife's chamber.
Hermione was standing before a long mirror, and she neither turned nor
looked from the radiant vision it reflected; her eyes, her attention,
all the feminine soul of her being just then fixed and centered upon the
tea gown she was trying on; such a garment as she had gloated over in
the store windows, yearned for, but never thought to possess.
"Ann," she sighed, "oh, Ann, isn't it exquisite! Isn't it a perfect
dream! Of course it needs a wee bit of alteration here and there, but
I can do that. Isn't it good of him to have bought it without saying a
word! And there are heaps of dresses and robes and--and everything! A
complete trousseau, Ann, dear--think of it! I wonder how he knew my
size--"
"Oh, I just guessed it, my dear," answered Ravenslee in the voice of a
much experienced husband.
Hermione gasped, and turning, stared at him wide-eyed, seeing only him,
conscious only of him. Lifting Hazel to the floor, he seated himself
upon her bed and, crossing his legs, eyed her flushed loveliness with a
matter-of-fact air. "Really," he continued, "I don't see that it needs
any alteration; perhaps the sleeves might be a trifle shorter--show a
little more arm. But those flounces and things are perfect! I hope all
the other things fit as well?"
Hermione flushed deeper still and caught her breath.
"Oh, Hermy," said a soft, pleading little voice, "won't you see me,
please?"
Hermione started, her long lashes drooped suddenly, and then--then,
forgetful of costly lace, of dainty ruffles and ribbons, she was on her
knees and had the child close in her arms. And beholding the clasp of
those round, white arms, the lovely, down-bent head, and all the tender,
craving, inborn motherhood of her, Ravenslee held his breath, and into
his eyes came a light of reverent adoration.
Presently he rose and left them together, but as he went, the light was
in his eyes still.